#of COURSE I got shingles

[porcupine-girl]

So, Friday night I had trouble sleeping bc my back hurt. But putting a heating pad on it for a few hours helped enough for me to get to sleep. Saturday night, same thing. Only the pain was like radiating to my arm, as it does sometimes, but also the muscles in my side and around to my left breast were sore. Then my skin started feeling really weird in the same general area - not quite painful, but oversensitive and uncomfortable.

Then Sunday when I went to take a shower I realized I had a weird rash. I called my husband in to look at it, because a lot of it was on my back where it’s hard to see. It didn’t itch, but it was in nasty-looking blotches from my back around, again, to my left breast. I assumed it had something to do with sleeping on the heating pad and sweating or something.

But the muscles were still sore and the skin was on and off again oversensitive all day yesterday. Then this morning a spot on my side hurt and when I looked there was a new blotch of rash there.

And that was when I actually thought the words “what could cause a painful rash — oh shit.”

As soon as I mentally put it into the words “painful rash” specifically my brain immediately pinged on the one thing that’s known to cause that: shingles! 🙃 I looked it up and a) the rash is usually a band around one side of your torso ☑️ b) the sensitivity/pain comes before the rash ☑️

I went to urgent care after class, she took one look at it and was like yep that’s shingles. Luckily if you get the antiviral within a couple days of the rash appearing it’s supposed to keep it from getting as bad.

Right now the rash itself only hurts a little; worse is the body/bone aches that have developed. No fever yet, thankfully, though I think I do have a bit of the chills despite no fever.

Hopefully it won’t be too bad other than, y’know, the open seeping sores these will become for 1-2 weeks.

[scientia-rex]

For the most part, my approach to prescribing hormones is “sure,” but I will note that the one thing I lean HARD on patients about is smoking. If you’re transgender, and you’re on hormones, the number one thing we want to protect is your cardiovascular health. That’s frankly the number one thing I want to protect in all my patients, but anyone taking exogenous hormones is at higher baseline risk. And the best thing you can do for your heart is DON’T SMOKE. It’s a bitch to quit, and I didn’t even smoke much or long before I quit in my late teens, and I STILL didn’t enjoy quitting and had smoking dreams for years. It’s harder to quit than just about anything else up to and including crack and heroin, and that’s coming from a patient of mine who recently passed in her early 60s who’d done all of those things—for years and years—but eventually was able to quit everything except smoking. And that killed her. She developed severe COPD and eventually called to say her blood oxygen saturation was dipping into the 70s, which is incompatible with life. She was lucid enough to decline medical care, including refusing to call 911 or go to the ER. A week later, after both I and one of our outreach nurses had contacted her to ask her to please go to the ER, I got a notification that she’d been found dead. She had been so frustrated that she wasn’t a candidate for a lung transplant.

One of my oldest trans patients is in her late 50s. She’s had blood clots that went to the lungs. Repeatedly. Smoking raises that risk. Estrogen raises that risk. She’s a veteran with PTSD; of course she smoked.

These aren’t theoretical. These are humans I’ve cared for over years of their lives. I have been rooting for them—my beloved former addict, who spoke without shame about her years of homelessness and drug use in the city; my queer elders, who are slowly trading in their motorcycles for power scooters. I want everyone to live their fullest, best life.

Smoking doesn’t fit into that. Please don’t smoke. I don’t want you to die like that—not now and not later. I want you to have the future that you may not be able to see yet, but exists.

Since I moved home as an out queer, word got out, and there’s a whole apartment complex of lesbians in their 60s to their 80s who come see me—sitting next to their wives in the office, nagging about blood pressure meds, tattling about not having gotten the shingles shot they said they would. To be clear, when I was growing up in town, I knew no lesbians. Not one. I knew one gay kid in my class, which eventually turned into two. We were it. To see these women living decades with their wives and being able to squabble like any couple in my office over who was supposed to bring their home blood pressure cuff in for us to check it… it means the world to me.

[allthesethingswillendsoon]

SUMMER LOVIN'

CHAPTER ONE: THE FIRST SUMMER

SUMMARY: It's the summer of 2019 and everything in Azzi's life has changed in a matter of months. But when she meets her new neighbor in Cape Cod, summer might just start to be her favorite time of year.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k PAIRING: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd WARNINGS: None (just Azzi being a little ball of anxiety) (Be warned this is barely proofread)

NOTE: Okayyy new series alert!!! Sorry for being MIA for so long I just wasn't feeling motivated etc etc. This series is gonna be a lot more fun and upbeat, I tried to match the banter and back and forth of some of my favorite writers on here. Also this is mostly just backstory, kinda like a prologue, so the rest of the chapters will mostly be set in the summer of 2024 or maybe 2025, idk it doesn't matter that much. I hope everyone likes this and isn't too disappointed that it isn't a Long, Long Time update. Thanks so much for reading and for all the support!!! I love getting feedback and comments and inbox stuff so feel free to leave that!!! Okay I hope everyone enjoys!!!!

JUNE, 2019

CAPE COD, MASSACHUSETTS

This was a new level of weird, like a whole new one. Actually, scratch that, not only was it a whole new level of weird it was a whole new plane of weird existence. 

The Fudd’s didn’t own a ‘summer house’, that would be crazy, that couldn’t be real. When they went out for dinner, once in a blue moon, they got tap water and kids meals, and maybe a dessert if it was someone’s birthday. They owned one car, a worn-down, beat-up people mover, which smelt like a mix of vomit and jelly belly air fresheners. Their house was well loved and rent controlled, something they were thankful for each and every day. They were content with what they had. They were happy and they loved each other.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the case anymore - well the last bit was still definitely true. But ever since her mom got a new fancy job at a law firm and her dad got a promotion, a lot had changed. 

Her family’s yearly income basically quadrupling had been the craziest thing to ever happen to anyone in the history of forever. With all the new money her parents were at a loss with what to do, so they went to a financial advisor person, who told them to ‘invest, invest, invest’, which they did.

One stock market thing after the other and suddenly her family had new cars and houses, and she could do twelve out of state college degrees debt free.

But it still didn’t feel real, it felt like a dream, or a mistake. Every day she expected for the IRS to come knocking down her door, taking all their money and belongings and locking all of it in a freezer - she still wasn’t sure what ‘frozen assets’ meant, but she swore it would happen to them.

Her parents had tried and tried to explain that they wouldn’t spend money that they didn’t have, that they were as secure as anyone could be, but Azzi wouldn’t hear a bar of it.

So of course, the existence of a ‘summer house’ had to be fake. But as her family pulled up to the massive, gated, shingled two story it started to feel quite real.

She stumbled out of the car, unsure of herself, the gravel of the driveway crunched under her squeaky-clean sneakers. Her dad handed her the baby pink suitcase she had picked out before they went to Europe - Holy fuck, she went to Europe. 

She dragged her suitcase down the driveway and made her way towards the entryway. Her mom was already standing on the front porch unlocking the door, her squealing brothers behind her, eager to see the house. Azzi felt like she had been removed from her body, like she was simply a floating entity, watching from afar. 

When the door swung open Jon and Jose sprinted inside, their footsteps and laughter ricocheting off the vaulted ceilings. Azzi stepped in slowly, she needed to be careful, what if houses in Cape Cod had floors that fell out beneath sceptical girls named Azzi, how was she to know?

After a few calculated steps inside she finally dared to look up.

Holy fuck.

It was beautiful, all of it, everything.

The front door opened into a hallway with two doors. On one side, an ornate doorway led to a fancy dining room and the other led to an office, both had big, solid oak tables, and nice chairs and glittery chandeliers. 

She walked down further and was met with the biggest windows she’d probably ever seen in her entire life. But it was the view that struck her, the pool in the backyard, the sand dunes and the ocean, the sunrise settling on the horizon. It was beautiful, it looked like it had been plucked straight out of a postcard. Azzi wasn’t even that religious, but if you had told her God had spent his day off building that house, she would’ve believed it.

The living room had big, white, plush couches with mountains of pillows. The kitchen was decked out in white marble and gold appliances. It was a dream come true.

Azzi turned to her parents, who were standing behind her, anxiously awaiting to see what she would say. They were half-convinced she’d beg them to return the house, to save their money in case of an unforeseen complete economic collapse.

Instead, she squeezed them as tight as she could and through a few tears, said, “I love it.”

They went to bed a few hours later after eating chicken caesar salad for dinner. Her mom made them eat on the deck, she said it was called dining ‘alfresco’. Azzi knew that just meant to be snobby and eat outside, but she was happy to go along with whatever her mom wanted.

It turned out that eating alfresco really took it out of her - or maybe she was drained from the extreme levels of unnecessary anxiety she had been operating under for as long as she could remember, either or.

So immediately after dinner she went up to her room. It was a solid half the size of her room at their real house -god saying ‘real’ house felt so pretentious- but at least triple her room at their old house. It was on the left side of the house, her window right across from a window of their neighbor’s house. It had a white-tiled ensuite with a shower and a bathtub, something she planned to use everyday if she could. She even used the bath salts she brought, letting the warm water and rose scent relax her muscles and her mind.

At last she was ready to sleep. With her sleeping mask and bonnet on she tucked herself into the five billion count duvet and started to drift off. As sleep finally began to take over she heard something.

It was quiet at first, a subtle tapping. She rolled over, trying to get the sleep she so desperately needed.

Then it got louder, she realised her window rattling was causing the sound. What the actual fuck was making her window rattle?

She squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance, trying to ignore the impending sense of doom that had settled deep in her stomach. 

Of course this would have to be how it ended for her. The universe couldn’t just give her one single thing. She was going to be murdered by some Cape Cod born-and-raised, white linen wearing, birkenstock loving freak who would use her guts as garnishes for acai bowls eaten alfresco; and there was nothing to be done about it.

Accepting her fate, she got out of bed and walked to the window, the freshly varnished hardwood floors cold underfoot. 

She braced herself, opening the shutters, only to be confused at the stark lack of creepy murderer person at her window, and the bountiful amount of tiny rocks in her flowerbed.

What was most surprising was the teenage girl standing in the windowsill of the house next door, her arm out and ready to throw another tiny rock. 

How was she going to be murdered from so far away? Bow and arrow? Gun? Was she actually going to be stoned to death? Like 1800s style?

Maybe she would just see where the moment took her.

Azzi knew that the shock was clearly etched onto her own face, but she knew that the expression on the other girl’s face showed she was more surprised than her.

They stared at each other in silence for a minute, the girl’s arm still locked in place. It was then Azzi realised she would have to speak first.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-shouted to the girl, wondering if her voice would make it past the seven metre gap between the houses.

“Uhhh trying to talk to you?” The girl whisper-shouted back, seemingly very unsure of herself.

“Why?” Azzi questioned, genuinely confused. Why would this random girl be interested in talking to her?

“I wanted to?” The girl responded, her voice pitched up at the end.

“Why are you saying everything as a question?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

The girl responded, frazzled to the max, “I dunno! Why are you?” 

Okay. Maybe she had her there. Whatever.

Azzi answered honestly, “Um, actually I don’t know.”

Then she remembered the whole conversation started because her brand new neighbour was trying to kill her with a plethora of tiny stones, “Why were you throwing rocks at my window??”

The girl paused, looking slightly confused, “To talk to you. I said that, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But like, you don’t even know me. Also it’s the middle of the night, unless I die in the next like seven hours I plan on being here tomorrow.”

She contemplated Azzi’s statement, “Hmm… yeah, I didn’t really think of that. I just wanted to talk to someone my age.”

“How do you even know I’m your age? I could be like thirty-five or something? We’re in Cape Cod for god’s sake doesn’t everybody here drink botox for breakfast?” Azzi interrogated.

She went silent for a moment before a smile broke out across her face, “Yeah, I don’t think a lot of thirty-five year olds sing along to Ariana Grande to unwind.”

Azzi stiffened, she felt her face flush a deep pink despite the slight summer breeze cooling her skin, “You could hear that?”

The girl’s smile grew a little as she crossed her arms across her chest, “I’ll just say that you’re a very talented singer.”

“Oh my god I wish you actually were going to murder me.” She whispered to herself.

Well, she thought she whispered to herself, but she realised she must’ve said it a lot louder when the girl’s face contorted with genuine confusion, “What?”

Azzi tried to regain her cool, “Nothing”

She shrugged, seeming to accept Azzi’s mini soliloquy, before she asked (stated really), “Okay, well, meet me on the beach at sunrise.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged, her smug smirk never leaving her face,“Cause I’m oh so charming?”

“Hmm I wouldn’t classify tiny pebble window assault as a particularly charming thing to do.” She retorted.

“I guess you could argue that. Sleep tight, see you on the beach nice and early!” With that the girl gave a quick wave before closing the shutters and her window.

What just happened?

Azzi had had some weird interactions in her nearly seventeen years of living, but none had been able to match the incredibly niche awkwardness and confusion of her interaction with- 

Wait.

What was the girl’s name? As a matter of fact, what did she even look like? The warm glow that had been coming out of the girl’s room had only allowed for Azzi to get the slightest idea of what she looked like, and the expressions that she was making.

The questions swirled through her mind at a thousand miles per minute. It was overwhelming, the amount of information she lacked about the girl she was apparently meeting at the beach for sunrise.

She steadied herself.

What was she thinking? Going to the beach to be alone with a complete stranger before the world would even wake up, and also without asking her parent’s permission?

Had her brain been completely scrambled? Had the girl thrown rocks at her so hard the force of it had sent her into a topsy-turvy dimension?

Azzi shut the windows and blinds before walking back to bed and taking a double-and-a-half dose of her melatonin gummy bears.

A little voice told her it was mean not to meet the girl on the beach, then she remembered she never even agreed to do it in the first place, and also, murder was still on the cards, maybe she was just biding her time.

Then at last she fell asleep.

Azzi didn’t even mean to wake up when she did. She didn’t set an alarm, she shut her blinds, she took more melatonin gummies than what was good for her. So when she woke up wide-awake and refreshed at quarter to six, she had no idea why.

She turned back over, trying to lose some of the day to sleep. After what could have been many gruelling hours, but was actually five minutes, of unsuccessfully squeezing her eyes shut, she acquiesced to the sleep gods and rolled herself out of bed.

There was a light chill in the air. Summer was not yet in full swing, with it only being early June and all. So she pulled on denim cutoffs, a purple tank top and an old quarter-zip. 

She plucked her phone off her nightstand and put on her sandals. She slipped out of her room, closing her door as quietly as humanly possible.

Padding downstairs, she silently thanked the universe for allowing her to live in a house without steps that creaked under the lightest  amount of pressure.

Azzi searched for a set of house keys before she found them inside a shell trinket holder on top of the hall console.

She unlocked the back door, wincing as the lock made a slight scraping sound.

It was still dark, but the sun was beginning to poke out above the sea horizon.

Only when she reached the back fence did she remember all the reasons she thought of the night prior as to why she shouldn’t go.

Then she figured, if this was how she was meant to go, she might as well just let it happen. 

So she powered on, trying her hardest to ignore the grains of sand slowly filling up the soles of her sandals as the ground beneath her changed from grass to sand.

When she properly reached the beach she scanned the area, looking for the girl from the night before. She finally spotted her, or at least she spotted the only other person on the beach and figured that was good enough.

“So what’s your name?” Azzi asked as she plopped down next to the girl.

“Well Good morning to you too, sunshine.” She smiled, looking a bit amused by Azzi’s greeting in the form of interrogation.

They fell into silence, Azzi waiting for the girl to respond, and the girl waiting for Azzi to greet her.

Azzi looked at her, studying her face and all the details of her existence she had missed the night before.

She had long blonde hair, cascading over her shoulders, covered up by a big USA basketball hoodie. The lines of her face were sharp and soft at the same time, the curve of her jaw and cheekbones defined. What struck her most about the girl’s appearance were her eyes. They were a bright blue, and reminded her of the waves lapping against the shore only a few feet away from them. The girl was really, really pretty.

After two minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence the girl finally answered, “I’m Paige.”

She smiled at her, at Paige, “Cool, I’m Azzi”

Paige smiled back, “Nice name.”

“Thanks.”

They fell into pleasant chatter. Paige asked a lot of the questions and listened intently as Azzi answered. She laughed at the funny stuff, making witty comments as she listened. It kind of surprised Azzi how charismatic she actually was.

The sun had risen halfway when they fell back into their silence. In the process of their conversation they had unconsciously shuffled closer, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they watched the starburst-colored sky.

“It’s so pretty.” Azzi said in awe, eyes glued to the horizon.

“Yeah it is.” Paige agreed from beside her. 

It was nice, just sitting there together, the both of them watching something beautiful happen at the same time.

They talked and talked and talked as the cool morning air gave way to the warmer summer heat, and the sun rose high into the sky.

Azzi learnt that Paige had been born rich, that her dad was the son of a big investor who grew up to become a crazy successful software engineer. She learnt that she was from Minnesota, that she had three half-siblings that she adored. She learnt that she wanted to play basketball at college, but that she wanted to help people in some way when she graduated.

“Well I should probably get back, lots of unpacking to do.” Azzi said, realising it was almost eight-thirty,

“Yeah of course,” Paige paused in contemplation before she added earnestly, “I’m glad you came down Azzi.” 

“I’m sure you are.” Azzi quipped, then she bumped her shoulder against Paige’s, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, “Yeah, I’m glad too I guess.”

She stood up, brushing as much sand off of her as she could as she made her way off the beach.

“See you later!” Paige called, waving her arm, smiling.

“See you!” Azzi yelled back, her smile bigger than it had been in a long time.

NOTE: I hope you guys enjoyed!! Thanks so much for reading!! As always feel free to leave reactions and feedback and questions in my inbox!

Divider from @sweetmelodygraphics

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Wow, what a buy! A little 1938 cottage on Harsens Island, MI. 3bds, 2ba, 1,000sqft, $219,900. Look at how you visit the neighbors- footbridges connect the small islands, or you could boat over.

For the boats. That's the St. Clair River.

Around the island there are channels and footbridges. The listing says don't let the water scare you, there's been no flooding.

And, here's a bridge for vehicles and there's deeded parking.

Instructions on how to get there. We can see the main roads there.

The house can be done up real cute. Enter the big enclosed porch.

The porch spans the front, then wraps around both corners of the house.

Then, enter a spacious living room. Look at the knotty pine floor.

There's plenty of room for a dining table, and that's the doorway to the kitchen on the left.

The kitchen is cute, but I would have to do some work to it- I don't like that wonderful vintage drainboard sink hanging off the cabinet. And, what did they do w/the fridge? There's plenty of room for one.

Of course it needs some color and decor. This is a cute little bedroom- look at the shape of the ceiling. It's screaming for some sky blue paint.

Then, the 2nd bd. is upstairs and it's bigger. Be careful of that pipe, I bet it gets hot in the winter.

There are 2 baths. Look at the shingled wall in this one. They've got a plastic curtain protecting it. Cute vintage tub.

This looks like a bonus space in the back of the house. It's more of an enclosed porch.

Not sure, but the 2nd bath looks like a half bath.

Okay, so the bedroom on the 2nd floor is considered the primary.

6,098.4sqft lot.

So, when they say park to the right of the pedestrian bridge, I guess you park where that blue car is in the left hand corner.

That looks like the mainland across the way.

It would be a very cool lifestyle.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/7090-S-Channel-Dr-Harsens-Island-MI-48028/126684825_zpid/

[thesiltverses]

what was the creative process behind making a crab-man the primary deity for the protagonists was, like

did you consider lanternfish-man? jellyfish-man? cuckoo-man? squid-man? how did you decide I want to knowwwwwww

He's not solely a crab-man, there's prawns and things in the show as well!

Uhh, but to answer your question. I used to go crabbing as a child in Porlock, a coastal village in Somerset which has a fascinatingly weird geography that speaks to cycles of destruction, invasion, and rebirth - the water and land are separated along the bay by a vast shingle ridge and then a flat salt-marsh with bone-white dead trees (while beneath the sea itself, a submerged forest waits to be revealed at low tide). Coleridge is heavily associated with Porlock, so it's got some strangeness under its skin. Its river, the Horner, is small, but flows through some beautiful and eerie oak woodland and I used to walk its course a lot.

The crabbing was always catch-and-release but there's inevitably a cruelty and uneasy dominance involved in catching anything; the sight of a bucketful of frightened animals, scrabbling to either hide under one another or escape over another. As a kid I think you feel both the giddiness at your own god-like power over something smaller than yourself but also the unhappiness and guilt in what you're doing.

So either it's that, or it's just because I liked the scary fish on spider-legs from Junji Ito's Gyo and I wanted to carve out some space for another water-dwelling creature in the eldritch realm.

[butterflydm]

Additional WoT 3x04 thoughts

That was so good. Okay, now that I've gotten some sleep, some more thoughts. spoilers for the show through 3x04 and for the books through the fires of heaven

Rand's journey through the columns kinda washed it away for me at the time, but I did really love the beginning with Rand and Lan, and us getting some insight into what Rand is getting out of his training sessions with Lan, and the ways in which Lan is treating him like an adult capable of making his own choices, and Rand's reservations about any potential relationship he might have to the Aiel people.

Of course, we the audience know that Lan is still keeping Moiraine's secrets for her (including that time she let Rand and all his friends get attacked by Lanfear), but I don't think Rand ever forgets that Lan is Moiraine's Warder.

We got two transformative journeys for relationships last night and I'm glad that they gave those two moments to Rand & Aviendha near the beginning and the end of the episode, and the way that Aviendha looked at him at the end! (and how she ran away from him lol oh baby, run as hard as you can but you can't outrun wanting to bang that man like a house shingle in a storm). Her straight-up picking a fight with him at the beginning because him using a sword so close to Rhuidean reminds her that she's wearing weapons when she knows that she's been called to be a Wise One but she ran away from her duty instead of following her duty to her people! Everything that we had with Rand and Aviendha was so perfect.

And the other one, of course, being the journey that Rand and Moiraine took together. So, I mentioned last night that I do get why they didn't want Mat there... I love Mat's story in the Waste, with Rand, but Mat being there does (I am reluctantly forced to admit) undercut the specific character and relationship arcs that we are currently undergoing with Rand and that we probably need to undergo with Rand in order to get him where he needs to be with his relationships in the future. Mat being there means we need to carve out a third storyline in Rhuidean. Mat being there means that Lanfear needs to haunt him too (trying to drive him away from Rand) the way that she's haunting Egwene, or else her entire premise (I'm the Only One Who Cares About You, Rand) falls completely to pieces. Show!Mat, especially, is genuinely such an amazing friend that he completely destroys Lanfear's manipulation attempts simply by existing near Rand, and this story that they're telling, where Rand might potentially believe Lanfear when she says that no one would love him if they knew the truth about him, gets a harder shake if Mat is there trying to lift his spirits. Egwene is in the same sort of dark place that Rand is (in part because of Lanfear torturing her every night to keep her there) and Rand also has so much guilt surrounding his relationship with her, both elements that aren't there in his friendship with Mat.

So, yeah, I get it.

But I do really hope that we get our s4 (and s5+) so that we can have Mat back in Rand's storyline and making him smile again. <3

Rand and Moiraine did go on a very transformative journey, both together and separate. I loved how we see at the beginning exactly why Rand is wary with her, and yet how Moiraine can sincerely believe she has "done nothing but help him" even though we've literally seen her sit and do nothing while he and his friends were calling for help in 3x01. Their moments at Avendasora together, and Rand realizing how connected their threads have been, with her uncle being the one who set into motion the events that led to his birth on Dragonmount. And then their looks toward each other at the end of the episode. Definitely very interested to see what they will have to say to each other in 3x05!

I loved all the interactions that we saw Rand having with all the Aiel characters! That was all so good. We got some really great stuff, and it was pretty book-accurate but it was translated to screen so well. Amys-with-a-Bair-nametag was great; Melaine was great, Sevenna was great (...a sentence I would never say about book!Sevenna); Couladin was great, etc and so forth! I loved all the interactions.

The horror of the thousand-thousand futures was really well done -- to start with a future that seemed happy but that would doom the world (Moiraine a happy fishwife, smiling at Siuan) to the futures where Lanfear kills her in so many different ways. You really can feel that there's only a narrow path forward that Moiraine needs to forge. We know that we're going to get Moiraine talking to Lan about the rings (presumably in 3x05) so I'm interested to see what else she tells him that we didn't already see in the trailers. We saw so many different ways she tried to guide Rand (and they DID include the one where she and Rand became lovers, I noticed!) and so many ways it ended in death and doom.

Moiraine straight-up stealing the strongest sa'angreal in the world from the Aiel people! Definitely in character but girl, damn! And that was before she saw any of the futures, so it wasn't even her thinking that she would need it for something specific in a future vision.

And the centerpiece of the episode. Rand's journey into the past. It was so good.

I'm really glad that we got the scenes with Janduin! "Shade of my heart!" Him telling her that they'd won, desperately cupping her face but not feeling any warmth. That was so heartbreaking. Giving Rand this moment in particular was a good way for the show to lead into Rand being more deeply affected by the columns than he was in the books, because this mirrors the grief that he saw his father (Tam) go through when they lost his mother (Kari). It instantly gave him a point of connection that he could deeply relate to -- as his adoptive father loved and lost his wife too soon, his blood father loved and lost his wife too soon. Seeing and feeling how deeply his mother was loved, and how deeply his own absence was felt by his father, it gives him a starting connection to his bloodline that we're able to trace through to his previous ancestors.

The formation of Rhuidean, and seeing ancient Latra. The last of the Aes Sedai from the Age of Legends (who isn't a Forsaken trapped in a seal). Gorgeous. And we also once again the reinforcement of "shade of my heart" as an endearment.

Lewin! I saw someone calling him hobbit!Rand and, yes! There were definite hobbit vibes going on with his hair. This vision was truly the formation of the Aiel as who they are today. I am going to say, I kinda like that the show didn't feel the need to call out the moment when the Maidens first picked up the spear, because that just makes it feel more assumed that, yeah, just as some men decided to make this choice, women started deciding it too.

This whole sequence was so heartbreaking! And I definitely noticed that they made Lewin's friends reminiscent of Mat & Perrin. The scene between Lewin and his mother at the end is so much. "I had a son with a face like that once. I do not want to see it on a killer."

I feel like this specific moment in time is the one that kills so many Aiel who try to go through the columns. Learning that their entire way of life is based on breaking their oaths to be committed to peace. That what they believed was a noble thing about not touching swords is actually a last desperate attempt to hold onto any remaining honor after losing the Way of the Leaf.

Poor Jonai, struggling with the Way of the Leaf and remaining firm to it, as the Tuatha'an choose to break their ancestors' oaths and abandon their duty to safeguard what the Aes Sedai left them. I really like the connection we had with Adan his grandson being a small boy in this one, and then being Lewin's grandfather in the vision just before it. That really helped with a sense of emotional continuity. Adan's entire life was this journey to the east! Bookended by loss and violence and yet Adan never wavered in his own commitment to the Way of the Leaf.

And I had originally thought that our queer!Rand ancestor was Jonai, but I don't believe he got a name, and I think he was Jonai's grandfather. What a wonderful surprise he was. I adored his scene with Latra, and getting to see Josha do entire scenes in the Old Tongue was such a delight. Every one of the ancestors felt so sharply drawn and unique, but this one in particular really really drew me in even before we found out he was queer, though that definitely helped me feel even more connected to him <3 <3

He's so quiet and sincere and earnest. Committed to his duty and the honor that it brings him. Reminds me of Warders, in a way (with much less fighting lol), instead of the kind of generational servitude that original Aiel were in the books. And seeing how futuristic the wagons were, comparing to the wooden wagons that we see two generations later with Jonai!

And we end with Charn, speaking to Mierin and seeing the Bore, and catching a glimpse of the Dark One!

This scene was so good! We once again saw Charn's devotion and his genuine joy in his work, like we did with his descendant -- he seemed interested in what Mierin Sedai was saying about finding a source of power that anyone could use, but mentioned that he wouldn't want to use it to bring the harvest in, because he finds value and joy in doing it with his own hands.

I loved the way that the Bore looked. It really did look like a crack in reality.

And Mierin was great. She was warm and kind with Charn, but there were hints there of what would grow to consume her in the future -- her telling Charn the importance of not letting go of the ones you love... actually, Mierin, you definitely should let them go if they break up with you and marry someone else! That's definitely the point at which you should let them go!

I am very curious if Mierin will come up the next time Rand talks to Lanfear.

The journey of the tree throughout the episode! How the object of power rested inside its branches as it was small, as it waited for Latra to find it again. I really like how Latra was the one who created Rhuidean! And how devastating it must have been to her, to see what the Aiel had become, after we saw the relationship that she had with the Aiel when she was younger, during the very beginnings of the breaking of the world. And this also shows us the lifespan of how long powerful Aes Sedai could live, and how many 'normal' lives it spans.

What a brilliant episode.

[hischiershoe]

friends to lovers

0.3 accidentally staring a bit too long at their lips

with john marino 🤩

one of the biggest marino girlies i know <3 can always count on you to come through with something for him

no warnings! just good ol childhood friends to lovers sweetness

When John came back to Boston for the summer, it was rare to find the two of you apart when he wasn't training for the upcoming season. Where he went, you went, and where you went, everyone knew John was sure to follow. It had been like that since you were kids, and everyone around you knew it was never going to change.

Your family was hosting the annual Fourth of July barbeque this year, and you had, of course, roped John into helping you set everything up. He got dragged into moving the foldable chairs and tables out of the shed while you were tasked with stringing lights and hanging decoarations. However, there were several instances where you would both get scolded by your parents because you broke off to talk to each other.

"Hey," John leans over to you in his chair, his voice dropping so you were the only one who could hear, "Wanna climb on the roof and watch the fireworks like we used to?"

"You sure you'll be able to handle that, old man," You tease, biting your lip to stop your amused smile from spreading.

"We're the same age," He playfully rolls his eyes before he takes a sip of his beer, "So, you want to or not?"

"Obviously."

No one says a word when the two of you walk off on your own, not even batting an eye when you disappear into the house together. The journey up to your childhood room was one you both made so many times that there was a path worn into the hardwood beneath your feet, and the windowsill had a slight dip in it from how often the two of you would slip through it.

John always went first so he could grab onto your hand and guide you onto the part of the roof just above the patio your parents had built all those years ago. As you settled into your usual spot, your eyes snagged the shingle that had your initials carved beneath John's, and you couldn't help but smile at it. It was something he had done the night after high school graduation, stating that it served as a promise that the two of you were always going to be friends no matter how far away the other was.

"How much did your dad spend this year," You nudge his shoulder with your own as you stretch out your legs.

"No idea," He quietly chuckles to himself, "I think him and your dad were having some sort of silent competition to see who could find the coolest ones, though."

"Sounds like it'll be a wild show, then," You throw your head back with a melodic laugh.

John's gaze flickers over to you, his eyes following every curve and dip of your body until he pauses on your face. He watches as your face relaxes and your laughter dies down, your chest rising and falling with a deep breath before you turn your focus to him. You catch his stare and the intensity of it makes a shiver run down your spine.

The way he was looking at you made everything in the background fade until the only thing you could hear was the sound of your breathing matching his own. His gaze drops to your lips, lingering far far longer than what could be considered normal, and you took it as a sign to break the unmistakable tension that surrounds you.

"John," You shakily breathe out, slowly inching closer to him, "Are you going to kiss me or are you going to make me wait another twenty-eight years?"

And almost like it had been planned, the second John's lips mesh with your own, the fireworks are set off and light up the sky in a way that almost, almost, rivals the feeling exploding in your chest.

[cyanbugremix]

Cyanbug's Redacted Audio Headcanons

(Some of these I might use/did use in fics, but others are just there)

1. Huxley had a bunny growing up. It was potty-trained and very curious about all the flowers his moms' and him would bring into the house. They had to keep the lilies locked away in a different room, to make sure the bunny didn't eat any of them.

2. Babe got a stick and poke tattoo of an outline of a wolf on the lower part of their thigh, as a teen. It wasn't the best, and it's pretty much faded now, but they remember how upset their mom was about it when she found out. They forgot that they couldn't wear shorts or else she'd see.

3. Babe also used to go explore abandoned buildings when they were younger. They mostly went to this one building that used to be an old gristmill, but stopped going there when the roof collapsed after a bad storm. They did it to escape to a place where it was quiet, but sometimes they'd bring a friend along to go exploring. They have a bunch of printed photos from those times.

4. Asher likes to joke with Darlin' that they should serenade Sam by playing "Your Man" by Josh Turner. (baby lock them doors and turn the lights down low-)

5. Smartass was in love with horses as a kid, and would ask for a horse/pony every birthday growing up (they never got one). But they used to collect horse figurines, and still have them in a box somewhere.

6. Asset's favorite board game as a kid was "Chutes and Ladders".

7. For a year or two, David was a social toddler, but at the end of preschool he started to get really shy (nobody really knew why). The only time he seemed to open up was when Asher was around, but was never as social as he once was.

8. Christian likes to go zip-lining and he and Amanda once went on a date to one of those zip-lining and ropes courses.

9. Amanda had braces as a kid, and in her early teens, but she got them off before she headed into high school. She preferred getting neon pink rubber bands.

10. Sam got the chicken pox as a kid (his Grandma mostly took care of him for that week or so when he was sick), and one of the first good things he realized after he got turned into a vampire was that at least he wouldn't have to worry about shingles (or vaccines in general) anymore.

11. Hush doesn't really care for cheese, but whenever Doc gets something that has gooey cheese, they'll let him do the first cheese pull since he likes seeing how far he can get it to stretch. So far he's managed 16 inches with cheesy bread sticks.

12. Aaron likes Neo-Expressionism art.

13. DAVID AND ANGEL GET A CAT. They originally were going to get one after their honeymoon, but then that didn't happen because life got busy again. David thought getting them a cat might be a good [insert holiday] gift, and the two of them could go pick out one at the humane society. But then one day David found a kitten on the street as he was walking by with Milo. The kitten just waddled right up to the two of them and actually seemed to like David. So he takes it home, especially because if Milo were to take it, Aggro would have a problem sharing his people (someone made a headcanon of that awhile ago and I AGREE. Aggro doesn't like to share. He wants to be the one and only best boy. I'll have to find it later. Shout out to whoever thought of it.) And voila. They have a cute little kitten now and are cat parents :D (I have a draft of this storyline, i just haven't finished it)

14. Treasure is really into bats and has been since they were a kid. Their family would always buy them bat stuff as a kid and into adulthood, so they have a lot bat themed things. They also have an old 3rd-grade informative essay, explaining different types of bats, hidden away in a folder. They wanted to be a zookeeper as a kid, specifically so they could take care of the fruit bat exhibit. Porter thought it was ironically funny when he first was invited to their home and the amount of things related to bats (and in correlation, vampires) that they owned.

15. Lovely plays the Sims A LOT (they like to build houses or other buildings the most).

-

Edit: Part 2 of my headcanons

[calicocoffeecafe]

A Midnight Affair

Colin Gray x Reader (NSFW)

Colin sneaks you out of the house to see a band in the wee hours of the night ~

Colin had given you very specific instructions to be ready to go at 12:00 am. He was taking you along with him to this live show at an abandoned house a few miles away. The drive supposedly took about 35-ish minutes, at least according to your GPS. Regardless, you had made sure to be done with all of your preparations by the time 11:50 rolled around, which left you ten minutes of wiggle room for anything else. Your parents were sound asleep and slept like rocks, not to mention on the other side of your house. Colin said he would climb up to your window and sneak you out. Thankfully, your parents hadn't caught on to the fact that the porch-roof outside your window was perfect for a quiet escape. With your smudged eyeliner, not super appropriate outfit, and purse with all the essentials, you were ready. You sat on your bed, waiting anxiously for his arrival. He sent you the “on my way” text a few minutes ago, so he'd be there any second now.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, you heard the sound that jolted you out of your thoughts. That tap, tap, tap on the window. Hurrying over, you carefully opened the window so as to not risk alerting your parents, and there he was. Decked out in his own attire, including a pair of ripped jeans that made his ass look phenomenal, Colin smiled at you, crouched on the shingles of the roof.

“You know, I'm pretty sure there's an ICP song about this exact scene,” You quipped, having had that prepared for about an hour now, feeling proud of your delivery.

“Minus the shooting people,” Colin added with an eyebrow raise, offering his hand to you in assistance. With his help, you quietly slipped out the window and shut it as softly as you could.

Despite the adrenaline rush that came with all the sneaking around, you two made it back to his car that he was smart enough to park a block down. He was so clever, as always.

Getting settled in his passenger seat, Colin started up the old rust-bucket he'd been cruising around in. The windows were the old-school crank-operated kind and the AC was busted, but she got the job done. Pulling down the road and starting towards the destination, Colin checked in with you.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” His voice smooth and rather suave for a guy who blushed whenever you kissed him. Perhaps he was trying to play it cool? Not important right now.

“In all honesty? I'm a bit nervous. Excited! But I'm nervous…” You fiddled with your rings, “This is my first time going to one of these kinds of things.” You admitted, though it came as no surprise to Colin considering how your first question was about ticket costs when he told you about it.

“Relax, it'll be ok. I'll be with you the whole time and I know some of the people who'll be there tonight.” Colin rested a hand on your thigh comfortingly, his thumb rubbing on you. Placing your hand over his, you leaned over the center console and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, baby,” You whispered. He was bright pink and let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, of course, no problem!” He was such a dork…

You loved it.

•♤♡◇♧•

After a drive that was nearly void of traffic, you arrived at your destination. Cars were littered across the lawn, nature having reclaimed much of what used to be the sizable house. Trees had come right up to the dilapidated walls, the grass probably up to your mid-calf. You could hear faint music coming from inside, some people wandering in, others coming out. There was one couple practically fucking on the hood of what you hoped was their car.

Not the least inviting place you'd ever been.

Colin hopped out, scurrying over to your side to open the door for you like the gentleman he was. Stepping out, the music was already louder. As Colin led you into the house, he gave a passing greeting to a guy who looked like he had set himself on fire more than once. Apparently, according to Colin, that guy was only 24. Must have been a hard 24 years.

When you finally actually made it into the house, you were nearly blasted by the loud music that raged. Electric guitar roared alongside fast drums that made the ground vibrate. People were all around you thrashing into each other, making out, drinking, and just generally having a good time. The girl singing lead for the band playing had a killer vocal fry that completed the scene.

It was thrilling.

It wasn't long before you and Colin joined in the revelry of the party-goers. People clad in leather and spikes, silver chains, and enough hairspray to burn a hole into the ozone layer welcomed you seamlessly into the frenzy. How long had you two been there? Fifteen minutes? An hour? It was hard to tell. All you knew was the band had finished and you were feeling some kind of way as Colin stood behind you, his hands on your hips.

“I'm having a great time,” He murmured sweetly into your ear, his body pressed against yours.

“Me too, baby, thanks for bringing me,” You chirped back, reaching a hand up and scratching the side of his head like you know he loved.

“Mmm, you look so beautiful,” Colin purred, nuzzling into your neck and kissing you lightly, just enough to ignite the passion you had built up.

“Let's get out of here,” You offered, having only one thing on your mind.

Colin was more than willing to venture off with you, finding yourselves outside, next to the house in the little fenced-in side yard that connected into the back and had a now-broken gate to the front. He had you up against the wall, his mouth on your neck with a hunger only you could satisfy. Colin growled as he nipped and sucked at the tender flesh, small bruises forming that you would have to hide from your parents over the next several days.

“Colin,” You sighed his name, his favorite way to hear it. He hummed into your skin, letting you know he was listening. “Let's do it.”

He pulled off of you for a second, a bit surprised at what you were suggesting.

“You mean right here? Now?” His eyes were wide with excitement and nerves, his groin burning with desire for you. The thought intrigued him, but what if someone saw them?

“I don't care if we get caught. Let them watch. I just need you so bad right now.” You argued, gripping his shirt collar and pulling him in close, your tongue darting into his mouth, his dancing with yours in a sensual ballet. His hands snaked onto your hips, holding you against the wall as he ground into you, letting you feel just how you affected him.

“Fuck it,” He groaned, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his mid-thigh, releasing his very hard cock as you shimmied down your own pants and underwear.

Bending over with your hands bracing yourself against the wall, he lined his leaking cock up with your greedy cunt. Colin rolled his hips and slid balls-deep, letting out a small whine as he savored the feeling of your wet pussy squeezing his dick so deliciously for only a moment before he made quick work at establishing a nice rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he bounced you on his cock, helping to strike that magical spot that made you see stars.

While he was busy fucking the brains out of you, you were trying not to make too much sound because you didn't want any unwelcome guests to investigate. Biting your lip to suppress the moans that tried to break free, you took Colin's pounding with great bliss spreading through your body.

The whole idea of what you were doing was so hot. You snuck out to see a concert with your secret boyfriend and now he was fucking you on the side of an abandoned house miles away from home. Fuck.

“I know you want to scream, darling, but keep being a good, quiet girl for me. Just like that,” He grunted in your ear, sending shivers along your flesh as he buried his face back into the crook of your neck, his thrusts unrelenting.

It seemed like almost as soon as you started, you felt yourself brimming over the edge, your orgasm washing over you with a sweet taste as your body shook and your insides convulsed around his cock. Colin had been holding back his own climax until you had cum, so with that now out of the way, he slammed into you one final time and unleashed the built-up load that he had been saving for you.

He kissed the back of your neck as you rode out your orgasms together, rubbing your stomach and telling you what a good girl you were. However, you couldn't waste much time just marinating in the afterglow. With a hasty and albeit not-very-thorough cleanup, you were back in his car and cruising on back to your house.

•♤♤◇♧•

Once again, he parked a few blocks down so as not to rouse your parents. Colin walked you back to your house, his arm around you the entire time as you two chatted about various topics, mostly whether or not you thought someone at the show had any hard drugs. Realistically, you both figured the case was yes.

When you had made it back to your house, you parted from your lover with a romantic and loving kiss, his hands on your waist, yours on his chest. Colin gave you a boost up onto the roof so you could get back into your room and waved goodbye, blowing a kiss to you.

As you undressed and took off your makeup, getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed with a message from Colin.

“Had an awsum time wit u tn, can't wait 4 the next <3”

You typed a response the felt fitting and set your phone down on your nightstand, making sure it was plugged in and your alarms were turned off. Good thing it was the weekend because there is no way you could have a night like that and go to school the next day.

Drifting off to sleep, you couldn't help but think about the next time you'd get a night out with your lover. He was rather outgoing when he wanted to be. Well, for you, he was.

What a catch you had caught.

~ ° +. ⛤ .+ ° ~

[sweetfirebird]

Americans

I said a lot of this in January, but:

Go get vaccinated.

--RFK Jr's little "I am going to find the cause of autism by September" horseshit is going to end with him and the unlicensed "doctor" on his team declaring the cause is vaccines. He will then relax all the federal guidelines and requirements for vaccines, and a country where measles and polio and other diseases were once eradicated will be... a nightmare. To put it mildly. This is because he wants already disabled people to die and perhaps in his case, genuinely does not realize this would create even more disabled people. (The Project 2025 people, however, definitely know and do not care.) We are pushing back on this, of course. Of fucking course. But get the vaccines anyway. My doctor said I can even get the Shingles vaccine though I am below the recommended age.

--Vaccines are considered preventative care. Most insurers, including the state marketplace plans, cover them. You can also pay for them with an HSA if you have one.

--You want: TDAP (tetanus, diptheria, acelluar pertussis {whooping cough}) especially if you are going to be around small children.

MMR (measles, mumps, rubella {German measles}) If you were vaccinated with a double dose, as most were, you are probably fine. But your doctor can check your protection levels. In older patients, this is a concern. They might only have received one dose as a child.

HPV vaccine. Prevents cancer. Do it.

Chickenpox vaccine if you are of the age to get it and didn't. Shingles vaccine if you are of the age to get it or your doctor okays you getting it early.

Flu vaccines. Covid vaccines. (If we have to add smallpox or polio vaccines back to this list, I am gonna lose it.)

If the FDA is allowed to keep doing them, sign up for their newsletters about product recalls. Cook all meat thoroughly, yeah even if you like it pink. Get a meat thermometer. Do not fuck around. They are cutting FDA safety inspections because we are living in an Upton Sinclair hellscape. Wash all of your raw fruits and vegetables. Wash your hands after handling them. (Some people recommend vinegar as well, but if the vinegar is too diluted, I am not sure it's better than water.)

Wear a mask (if your state allows this.)

--Measles is airborne and people can be infected and contagious four days before showing symptoms. Flu is airborne and this last flu season was bad, and the new one will likely be worse because--see above, fewer vaccines. And I am not even talking about bird flu. At least wear a mask in crowded public spaces or on transportation like trains and planes.

Use hand sanitizer, sure, but also, WASH YOUR HANDS:

--hand sanitizer does not kill things like norovirus. Wash your hands with soap and hot water. Get under your fingernails. Not only does this help prevent you getting sick or getting someone else sick, but those shitheads are going to make the health care system even harder to navigate, so trust me, you do not want to get sick now.

(Don't go on cruises. Cruise ships, already plague vectors, now also no longer have inspectors. Yay! We are the healthiest and most sensible country. Sure am glad those billionaires got a tax break.)

Save your money.

--a recession, at minimum, is on the way. (Fascists love recessions. They can promise desperate people that fashy bullshit will help pull them out of the financial quagmire, while actually holding them down in it.) But also, why contribute to the billionaires? And also, beyond that, the odds of strikes or general strikes happening is high. Prepare for that. Also, if you can, maybe get some cash out and stow it away. Just in case. Learn how to repair and reuse or thrift more durable items from back when America did make things that lasted.

Take the biometrics off your phones and use a passcode instead.

--In many jurisdictions, they do not need a warrant to open your phone if it can be unlocked with a fingerprint or a face ID. You have a right to privacy.

Look into better security on your phones and other devices (Kindles, TVs, laptops, tablets, smart appliances ffs). Look into adblockers. Fuck being a product.

--Related: post less on social media about where you are going and what you are doing. Take back some of your right to privacy. Stop using your real name on the internet. Pretend it's 1997 and you are avoiding a creeper in an AOL chatroom. (Kids, you will have to google that one, but trust me.)

Freeze your credit.

--go to Experian, and for free, freeze your credit. You can unfreeze it whenever you want if you need to buy a car or something. Your data is... who even knows where anymore. Protect yourselves. Set up alerts with your bank as well: get overdraft warnings before they happen or turn off the ability to overdraft at all. Get alerts about unusual spending on your cards. Get alerts about low balances. PROTECT YOURSELVES. Republicans eroded or eliminated most government financial protections. So it's just us to protect us from predatory shit right now.

--Related. If you are trans or queer and worried about your rights being taken away, especially regarding marriage. Go to your bank and assign your chosen loved one/s to be your account beneficiary if you die. YOU are naming who has access to your money if you die. Make a will as well. You don't need to be married to someone to leave them your property. Just make sure the will is solid by your state's laws.

Get your Real ID (fashy crap but get it anyway.)

Get your passport if you can afford it.

--if you have a passport already, you can use that to get your Real ID. Either way, you are going to need a certified copy of your birth certificate. (Or the actual thing, if you have it. But I would send in a copy, personally.) This requires into going into the County Clerk offices where you were born or mailing them in a *notarized* form with a filing fee. Notarizations are cheap in most states (excluding NY and CA, where they are like $15). County Clerk filing fees vary. Once you have the certified copy, make an appointment at the post office. You can download the passport form from the government website--you will need to know things like your parents' birthdates and social security numbers, I believe. Yeah it sucks.) The post office will take the photos for you. Do not wear anything political or even funny or silly. Plain clothes. There is also a fee to pay at the post office for processing this, and then a free to the government for the passport (which is dumb. Citizens should just get them free but we don't live in such a country.) Total passport costs are going to range from $130 to around $200, depending on what you need done and how fast.

But if you can, get the passport, and get it soon. They are overwhelmed as it is and things will be slow.

This is a lot of tasks. And the world is already overwhelming. But you are protecting yourself, and in doing so, helping protect others.

[yansurnummu]

Critiquing the Construction of Cipher's Midden

AKA "Why Can't Hermaeus Mora, In His Infinite Knowledge, Teach These Poor Nerds Some Basic Joinery Techniques"

Being back in Apocrypha replaying these quests after what, 2 years now? Got me actually looking around and looking at some details in a few houses (for fic purposes, of course) and then once I started doing that, being a woodworking aficionado with some construction experience myself, I couldn't help noticing a few things.

(Disclaimer that this is just for fun and not meant to be ripping on the actual ESO devs who did a great job of creating some really great environments and set pieces)

Unsupported beams: Putting beams across an otherwise open roof situation like this will add rigidity to the structure, but uh. They've gotta actually be attached to the frame. To have it just stuck to the interior panels like that is concerning. Honestly, from this point on, I'm just assuming any circular beams are purely a decorative choice because they just don't make sense otherwise.

Mystery Gaps: This is only the beginning for these particular beams. They will become a recurring theme. it's actually fairly common in modern-day construction to have multiple thinner pieces of wood (like 2x4s for example) stacked together like this to create support beams as this is usually a more cost-effective option than something like 4x4 hardwood and isn't really significantly less strong. but having 1-2 inch gaps between them is ???? not that bad I guess but just why? You're only making more work for yourself.

Missed Connections: If we're assuming these beams are carried over from the outside, then these oddly-spaced, doubled-up beams are likely what's supporting the eaves of the roof. That's not good! Leramil, your study's gonna blow over in a stiff breeze! Always carry your load-bearing beams across the frame!

This is Fine: well, it's not fine, it's probably not helping with insulation in here, but structurally it's not a big deal, just a bit baffling. It looks like their roofs are built in 3 layers; the boards visible behind the broken parts would be laid down first over the frame, and then the shingles on top, and then this broken shiplap (using that literally here lol) is the interior layer. Note how they don't quite meet up where the frame is.

I have no idea what that metal brace is holding up. Or the ropes. I guess the Ciphers are all just really into shibari or something.

Here we can see that someone among the Ciphers has the skills to actually cut proper joinery. From the look of it, that beam is supported by this round log, which has a joint cut into it to keep it in place. Good job!

And here we can see the ends of those doubled-up beams from the interior.

Decorative Protrusions: So, there is a historical precedent for details like this, but typically they would be supporting the floor of an attic. On the opposite side of this, there's just... wall.

After the nightmare that is the interior, I was interested to see how bad the foundation would be, but honestly? It's pretty solid, assuming the beams are lap jointed (cutting blocks off the beam on the outside and cutting a corner off your beams on the inside so they then fit together and sit flush without the need for nails) Evenly spaced 4x4 beams about a foot apart, this would be great if not for the floorboards running parallel to the beams themselves, and then the odd connections of the posts that serve as the foundation not actually sitting on the frame. So close!

So, canonically, I believe that the Ciphers get most of their material salvaged from Fathom's Drift, which makes things like this doorframe actually make a decent amount of sense. These long, curved beams could feasibly have been part of a ship's hull once, and I think that's a pretty cool touch.

Now, onto the walkways:

a suspension bridge without a railing is just a springboard for co-workers you hate. bonus points for the tripping hazard to make extra sure you faceplant on the ground below.

I have no words for this railing. the nice thing about it is, assuming all those rods are dowelled into the boards beneath them, this could actually work out if they properly connected the rail itself. which it doesn't seem like they have, if the mix of nails and rope is anything to go by.

Before I finish this, I just wanna take a quick look at some furniture:

(Yes, I know these are technically the rustic High Isle set, but I'm doing them anyway)

Really the only issue I have with this table and chair set is that the seat of the chair is covered in nails. Don't do that. You've already used dowels on the back, just use them to connect the seat as well. Or if you have to use nails, you can sink them down further and then plug them with something. (I'm sure there's a tamriel equivalent of wood filler, it's basically just sawdust and adhesive) Otherwise these are both pretty solid and well built.

The chair back is a little interesting though. It's pretty common for chairs to be built with tennon joints (basically the vertical pieces have niches carved into them, and the horizontal slats either have the ends tapered, or carved away entirely to sit flush with the other piece) but the visible dowels are a little weird and probably not doing anything structurally. I guess it could be an aesthetic choice.

TL;DR:

Most of this place would absolutely not pass a building inspection. These choices vary from dangerous to just kind of weird, and the Ciphers should probably find a new carpenter.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk <3

[rvlse]

Hiii! Could you write something with Earthspark Bumblebee?

A new years kiss perchance? Could lead to other activities.

Nsfw or sfw up to you! 😼

Hi Hi! Omg, my first request, I can't believe it.🤩

Okay, so I wasn't sure what gender you wanted, so I tried to make this gender neutral.

New Year's Kiss (BUMBLEBEE ES X GN! READER)

WARNINGS: None, this is SFW... implied freakiness tho

New Year's Day. Everybody was super excited, planning new year resolutions and praying for a good 2025. 

Robby, Mo, and the other terrans had been busy all day making food and preparing games for the evening. 

Bee, however, had other plans. He’d been secretly crushing on his cybertronian team member, Y/N. Every time you’d come near him, he'd go nearly insane trying to contain himself and not say something ridiculous.

At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if you thought he was crazy. He might as well be, with how often you plagued his thoughts.

So, he finally wanted to do something about his emotions and ask you out on a date. Tonight. He was jittery just thinking about it. 

The terrans knew all about his crush on you, which somehow made everything better and worse at the same time. They constantly had something to say, but they had helped him plan his night out.

If all goes well, he'd ask you out, and then you’d fall in love with him, and then-

“Bee?” Mo called up to him. He turned his head down to acknowledge her.

“Mo, what's up?” He tried to act like he hadn't just been fantasizing. Mo raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“Check the time. Now or never,” she teased, putting her small hands on her hips. Bee sighed, and got up from the dusty floor next to the Malto house. It was 11:47 PM… time for his plan to begin.

As he saw you sitting there in the barn, talking with Twitch, he swore his spark skipped a couple beats. You were just… jaw dropping to him. Perfect. Everything he’d ever need and more. He took a couple slow steps towards you, scared he would mess up the first part of his little scheme. 

“Uhm- Y/N?” He almost mumbled, bringing a servo to your shoulder. You turned your head with a smile on your faceplates. 

“Hey, Bee, what’s going on?” You greeted him, a happy twinkle in your optics. He almost short-circuited at the sight. He nervously glanced at Twitch, who nodded excitedly and shot him two thumbs up.

Gulping, he took a deep breath. 

“You mind coming with me to the roof? I got something to show you,” he managed to say calmly.

You, of course, nodded and got up without a second thought. It was one thing he loved about you.

“So, I kind of… put something together. With the help of some friends,” he rushed his words as he climbed onto the black asphalt shingles, giving a glance at the various gifts he’d put up here earlier today.

They were all cutely laid out on a fluffy cow pattern blanket. Mo and Twitch had said you would love it. He didn’t know any better, so he agreed. Now, he could only hope for the best.

He watched as you clumsily clambered onto the roof, taking a second to regain your balance.

He turned to the presents and took a deep breath in. Hopefully this will all go according to plan and- 

“OOF-” He spluttered as a weight crashed into him, almost knocking him over the edge of the roof. Bewildered, he looked down only to see you squeezing the spark out of him with a big bear hug.

“Bee, you did all this for me?” You exclaimed, and he brought his servos around to your back to hug you back.

“I wanted to do something special for you…” he murmured, his gaze trained on your face lovingly. You slowly let him go and tumbled over to the cute blanket, sitting down and examining each gift closely. 

He’d gotten you a crate of high grade energon, an extremely oversized cow plushie, and an absolutely massive bouquet of your favorite flowers.

He watched you as you marveled over each item, praising him and thanking him over and over again. He was so happy you liked it. At first, he was worried it wasn’t enough, or that maybe it was too much. The relief he felt was like no other.

He checked his internal time. 11:58 PM. Almost time. 

“Y/N… Listen, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but these last few months…” He watched you stand up, “you… you’re all I think about. It’s really distracting, sometimes-”

He paused.

“Point is…” 

11:59 PM.

“Y/N, I-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because your lips were on his, preventing his ability to speak. His optics were wide, and his servos hovered in the air, unsure of where to put them.

And then he realized exactly what was happening, and his optics fluttered shut, a shot of adrenaline rushing to his core. His servos found your waist, gripping your metal firmly. God, this was too much.

12:00 AM.

With several bangs, shimmering fireballs of dazzling colors were shot into the starry midnight sky, illuminating the Malto farm.

Bee didn’t even notice the fireworks, his circuits entranced by the feeling of your frame in his servos, the feeling of his glossa in your intake. Screams of joy and celebration were heard from all around the town, emphasizing how special of a moment New Years really was.

He kissed you for what seemed like hours, his digits gently groping your body. When you finally pulled away for a breath, the fireworks had died down and the only chatter he could hear was from the Malto family inside the barn underneath them.

He stared longingly, pathetically, into your optics, his jaw slack in wonder. How were you so pretty? So perfect? How had you managed to silence and turn him into a horny mess with just a kiss?

“I love you,” he blurted, hot energon rushing to his face. Frag, did he seriously just say that? Too soon, too soo-

“I love you, too, Bee,” you replied, bringing your own servo up to cup his blue flushed cheek.

Yeah, he just pissed himself.

HAPPY NEW YEAR I'M WISHING YOU ALL LOVE, LUCK, HEALTH, WEALTH, AND PROSPERITY!🥳

[rav1377]

Goodnight Loving Trail

cowboy!John Price x fem!reader (ranch au)

put my whole Texas behind into this one…if it’s too technical for y’all lemme know. my family has experience cattle ranching so i have knowledge on this subject and if i wrote something that you’re looking like “what the hell is she talking about.” LET ME KNOW! if you’d like something more visual for the calf stuff, i HIGHLY recommend watching the Houston Rodeo reruns of team calf roping AND tie down roping, all on YouTube! i know it may seem harsh as you read this, but the cows aren’t being hurt.

tw:kissing in this one, comfort, father getting sicker, dementia, not taking pills, ranch work, etc etc etc NOTE: reader does reference something of John’s as “bigger than hers”, NOT a reference to readers size/weight, merely a JOKE, it’s a JOKE. I do NOT mean to offend anyone or make them feel this fanfic is not for them. reader is reader, meaning YOU!!! if you feel that im inaccurately writing or not being inclusive, LET ME KNOW! I will try to fix it! That being said, I’ve written these as if I was the reader, and I am personally a little chunkier! But if you don’t like this, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THAT IS GOOD INFORM ME. -cass 💕:D

the cool Texas morning rolls in on the east wind, and the oak trees shift and move in the early hours of the morning. you lie awake in bed, on your side, and face the open window. your pa isn’t getting better and refuses to take his pills. the cows haven’t been worked in days. the fields need tending to. the garden has weeds over growing and strangling your other plants. the barns need to be prepared for winter. the goats and sheep need to be checked. the dogs need to be fed. the perimeter needs to be rerun. the fence on the west side needs to be fixed. the pipes are leaky and need new pieces. the roof is old and crumbling, needing new shingles. everything is falling apart to you. you sigh and sit up as your clock hits 4:30am. maybe with John here things will be different. you didn’t want to admit you needed his help, but you do.

you stretch and try to get the sleep in your eyes away. the wardrobe in the corner of your room is open and you reach for a pair of worn jeans and socks, slipping them on slowly. your belt comes on next, followed by an old tee shirt. walking to the bathroom, you turn the old sink on and brush your teeth thoroughly before splashing some cool water on your face. a hair brush pulls hair from your face and into a ponytail. the mirror sits in front of you and you don’t want to look. all you’ll see is a tired girl trying to keep a farm together, bags under her eyes, exhaustion clear. sighing you turn off the light and slip down the hallway. John’s rooms light is on and you hear him moving around. you’d told him to be ready at 5 to help with the morning chores and you smile, pleased he’s ready to work.

the stairs creak slightly as you walk down to the kitchen, pulling out bread and eggs. John comes down not even five minutes later. “mornin’.” he rumbles, deep morning voice present. you nod and buck your head to the toaster. “morning. could you put some bread in there for breakfast?” you ask. he’s quick to follow your orders, promptly entering two slices in before pressing the button down. he watches as you make scrambled eggs, adding a bit of salt and pepper. the toaster pops, and he places a piece on each plate that you already laid out. you turn back to him, eggs done, and serve portions onto each. you place a bigger clump of eggs on his and his eyebrows furrow. “no no, put some back on yours.” you roll your eyes. “John i have plenty on my plate. i made the extra for you on purpose.” orange juice is poured into cups as the two of you sit down. John’s miffed for him getting more than you. his father always told him to make sure his wife always got plenty of food before eating each meal, to make sure she was provided for. of course you weren’t his wife but he thought the philosophy still applied. you did seem okay with your meal, but it still rubbed him a bit wrong.

your sweet voice cuts through the chewing of food. “we have a lot to do.” you whisper, head drooping. “that’s what i came for.” John says, looking at you. “tell me what needs to be done.” he says, putting down his fork after his last bite. “well the priority is the cows. calfing season is coming up and we have a lot of heifers that are having their first babies. so we need to check and work them today.” he nods as you talk, taking a sip of his juice. your thigh is pressed against his and he watches as your hands move with everything you say. “we should also start to prepare the crop fields. we need those to get through the winter. and if we can squeeze it in, start on the barns.” you finally finish, head resting in your hands. “there’s so much to do John and I don’t have the time or means to do it on my own.” you whisper. tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your voice begins to shake. his chest hurts, distraught that you’re so stacked with things to do. “it’ll be okay. we can start on a bunch of the work today.” he tries to console you, hand resting on your back. “these aren’t one day jobs, they’ll take days.” you murmur, head back up. your eyes are far off and filled with worry. “it’ll be okay. y’ever thought about getting more help?” he says. you shake your head. “i don’t need help.” you say firmly, eyes coming to reality again. John sighs in his head. always stubborn. that’s what he remembers most about you from school. you’re hard to change, and when you found something you stood for, you dug your heels in like an anchor. “well we can still get a lot of this done today.” he says, rising from the nook in the kitchen. he takes the plates and glasses, rinsing them in the sink. you nod, eyes stinging. you stand and pull a pill box from the counter, writing something on a sticky note before placing the box on the table. John watches from the sink. “my dads meds.” you explain. he nods and returns to the dishes. “he refuses to take them, he’s just being stubborn.” you growl out. “reminds me of you.” he says, but his eyes are filled with something that you can’t put your finger on. you sigh and look away, headed to the back door.

pulling on your boots, you slip a jacket on to brace the cool fall air. John follows suit and you throw work gloves into your pocket. grabbing your hat, you open the door and walk out to what you call the shed. John follows close behind, steps heavy on the wet grass. the shed isn’t a shed, rather a large barn where you hold everything that you need for work. the tractors, mules, and atvs all sit out in here, waiting to be used. you’ll check cattle first though, and you prefer to be on horses for that so you can get really close to the cattle. “you know how to ride?” you ask, walking over to the tack room that’s connected to the stables. John hums in affirmation, still taking in the room. “good.” you say, walking into the much smaller tack room. you pull off a saddle blanket and saddle before kicking open the door to the stable. your horse Big Red sits on the right stall, chuffing like he’s waiting for you. you smile and throw the saddle over to sit on the fence. Oliver sits in the stable to the left, nickering at the commotion. John walks in behind you, saddle and blanket in hand. “this one okay for me to use?” he asks, showing you. you nod and return to Red, entering his pen. “you’ll ride Oliver today.” you jut your chin out at the large black horse. Oliver was named after Oliver Loving, co-creator of the Goodnight-Loving cattle trail. another black horse in a pen is Charles, named after Charles Goodnight. your father had bought them when you were fourteen, a rare pair of twin brothers. Big Red is your most recent baby though. you bought him as a foal when you had just turned 18, a sort of birthday gift to yourself. his brown-red coat gleamed in the sun and reminded you of the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico.

you enter the stall and throw the blanket and then saddle over your horse, securing it with the straps and belts. you hear John do similar across the room. you walk back to the tack room before bringing out a bridle and harness, then grab a lasso rope before calling out to John the things he’d need. “we’re not completely sure if premie calves have been born so we’ll take some rope just in case.” John nods and returns to the tack room to get his own supplies. you needed a saddle bag for the tag piercer and anything else you might need to work cows, including some water for you and John. some chaps sit in the tack room and you pull your pair on over your jeans, leaning over to fasten the clasps. you hear John’s steps behind you coming into the room and you stand, pointing to where some extra pairs lay. “see if any of those fit you, might be a little tight though. they were my dads.” you say and he nods, pulling on a beaten navy blue pair. they are a little tight, and squeeze his thighs, but aren’t too uncomfortable. when the two of you are finally ready, you open Red’s pen and walk him out into the pasture before mounting him. John follows, but Oliver is playing a joke on the new man, moving every time John tries to bring his right leg over his back, causing him to stumble. you watch, amused, as John tries to get on him again. this time, Oliver moves a good three feet, and John falls right on his butt. you laugh, pressing a hand to your mouth. he looks up to you from the ground. “oh this is funny?” he asks, eyebrows raised. you nod, wheezing. his eyes dance with playfulness as he grasps Oliver’s reins. you walk Red over there, barricading Oliver’s right side so he can’t move. John’s successful this time, and snugly fits into the saddle. “ride ahead to that gate. well go to the Dawn pasture first.” he nods. you watch and follow behind him as he guides Oliver where you directed. his strong legs grip the sides of the horse before resting his feet in the stirrups. eyes trailing upward, you can’t help but look at his ass that’s snug in the saddle. you smirk and look away. he’s got a fatter ass than me you think to yourself.

when you reach the gate, you explain how the farm works. 3 large pastures, each over 100 acres. the Dawn pasture, the Grant pasture, and the Conner pasture. the names help everyone keep track, though unusual. they were the last names of the men your pa worked with in the mines, killed in a mine collapse in Wyoming. Dawn pasture is where you keep a lot of the heifers and young cows, along with sheep or goats if you have them some years. Grant pasture keeps the more seasoned cows and bulls, ones that won’t be too crazy. Connor pasture is the biggest and roughest. Clearwater lake sits on the front part of the pasture that faces the house, and the albeit small Watson mountain ranges sits in the bag. Watson mountain range isn’t really a mountain, but this is Texas land and it does what it wants. it encapsulates the northwest side of the property and the land is rocky and tall, hard to navigate. mountain lions and coyotes roam the area, but you let some cows roam near the lake. they’re smart enough not to venture too close to the mountains. you have three crops that you grow; corn, cotton, and wheat. four if you count the hay field. the corn crop sits in front of the main house while the wheat field sits in front of Connor pasture. the cotton field is relatively small, and is snuggled between the horse pasture and the corn barn. the hay field is nestled between the grant and Connor pasture, and sits diagonal from the main house. that’s all John really needs to know for now, and you unlock the gate, riding into Dawn pasture.

heifers are roaming the hills, grazing at the grass. some of them aren’t pregnant with their first calves but most are. you silently do a rough count of them as you and John ride side by side. one sticks out. an early calf. you have to be careful with these, needing to check and watch over them because they’re a bit early. you look at John and gesture with your hands at the calf. “we need to tag that one.” you call, separating from John. he immediately picks up what you mean and rides to the right side of where the momma cow and the baby are. you turn off to the left as you get closer, pull your cattle stick from the hook on Red’s saddle. the mother is on the left side of the calf, staying close to her baby. John pulls off his rope and swings it slowly in his left hand, legs guiding Oliver on their own. you nod at him and start making noise, whooping lowly and clicking your tongue. the mom sees you now and turns to face you. John creeps to the right and speeds up, moving to lasso the calf. the rope lands around its neck perfectly, and John tugs the rope to get the mom away from the calf. you ride between the gap, and dismount. the momma calf knows who you are though, and thankfully doesn’t make too much trouble, instead watching the situation closely. you walk slowly to the calf, John staying on Oliver. the little animal is panicking, crying for its mother. the momma calf moos at her child, trying to calm them. the momma cow paws at the ground and scrapes up dirt nervously. you pull open your saddlebag, pulling out the tag piercer and a new number ear tag. you walk to the little animal, calming it as you rub its stomach. you swing one leg over its side slowly, pressing her, you check in between your legs. you’ve found that similar to a cow chute, these calves are calmer when they’re squeezed. you make shushing noises as you bend over, pulling its head up gently so you can slip the tag through its ear with the piercer with a clear ca-chunk.

you throw off the lasso and release the cow to her mom, hearing her duck under her moms body. you smile and nod at John before walking back to your own horse. the two of you walk around and check the pasture, counting only one more premie and working it. the rest of your heifers are looking great, still healthy and round with their coming babies. the whole ordeal takes about 4 hours, and by the time you’re done it’s almost 10:00. as you ride back to the horse pasture John sighs. “well, we got that done in four hours, we started at six?” he asks. you nod, looking at the brunette man. “we’ll have to run those calves to the chute to get them their shots and register them.” you say. John slides off Oliver to open the gate to the horse pasture. “well use the horses again, but i need to run inside to check on my pa.” you say, dismounting after he closed the gate. you hand Big Red reins to him. “ill be right back.” you say, nodding. his blue eyes bare into yours and you stay silent. the walk back to the main house is silent and lonely. wish John was here. your mind unconsciously thinks and you scold yourself. you can’t be thinking about him like that. he’s a ranch hand, nothing more. the house is quiet when you walk in.

walking to the living room, your pa is sat in his normal armchair, watching some news channel. “pa?” you ask, kneeling by him. “hello.” he says, finally looking at you. as you look up at him, you can see it in his face. he doesn’t recognize you. “hi.” you whisper. “what’s a nice young lady like you doing in my house?” he asks, sitting up straighter. “nothing sir, i’m just passing through.” you say, standing. “i have something for you.” he nods, rising as well. “you need to swallow these. do you understand that?” picking up your fathers pill box you open today’s day and hand them to your father. “swallow them with water or when you eat something, okay?” your pa nods and walks to the fridge. “well i’ll just swallow them right now then.” he says, pulling out the pitcher of sweet tea. you nod, eyes stinging as you pull him a cup. he doesn’t remember you. he pours himself a glass of tea and takes his pills. nodding, you walk back to the back door and pick up your hat from its hook. “you know, lemme tell you somethin’ girl. you look just like my wife Audrey.” he says, nodding as he sips his tea. “i bet she’s real pretty.��� you whisper before walking out the back door.

John’s waiting for you like a loyal dog at the horse pasture. you climb back on your horse and John unlocks the gate. “you know how to team rope?” you ask as you ride side by side. “i do. i’m better at heading.” he says, voice gruff. it sends a shiver down your spine and you look away. in rodeo, team roping is one of the best events. two cowboys both with lassos, chase a cow. when they’re ready, they release those ropes, one trying to get the calf’s head, called a “header”. the other cowboy tries to get the calf’s legs or foot, called a “heeler”. that’s what you and John will be doing. it’s easier to get the calf immobilized so you can lead it back up to the cow chutes at the front of Dawn pasture than trying to get it there by herding alone. you don’t need the whole herd, just the two calves. luckily, you don’t have to go far. you can see the two calves from this morning with their moms and you head toward them. you pull off your lasso and John follows suit. he pulls a piggin string from his belt and tucks it between his teeth. as you spin the lassos, approaching, the calves are skittish, but you and John hook one successfully. his rope flies around the neck, tugging the calf to him and Oliver as you release yours, perfectly hooking on its rear left leg. Johns already off Oliver, turning the calf to tie its legs. when he finishes, he picks up the calf and rests it on top of his horse, sitting in front of him.

it’s your turn. you pull out your own piggin string and tuck it in between your teeth. John leads this one, blue eyes zeroing on the second calf. as you ride to it, swinging the ropes, John releases his, perfectly landing on the animals head, slowing it for you. you’re quick to release your own, roping both of its back legs, something challenging for heelers. you’ve only done it a handful of times. John lets out a whoop and a laugh as you dismount Red and wrap the calf’s legs together with the piggin string. “you ever done that before?” John calls to you, voice filled with excitement. “yeah, twice! and one of them the calf seemed like it was running through molasses.” you say, grinning up at him. hauling the young calf to your horse, you follow suit of John and place the calf across Big Red, sitting snug next to you so you can keep it safe. the two of you ride back in laughter, talking about what just happened, conversation flowing like wine. you can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. when John gets to the chute he enters the pen and pulls his calf with him, letting the thing run around in the pen. you follow suit, releasing your little calf. “want me to get them in the chute?” he asks from inside the pen. nodding, you walk up to chute controls, opening it for the first calf. John’s clicking his tongue and holds his arms out to herd one into the chute. the skittish one runs in instantly, and you close the door on the young calf to keep him trapped. he moos at you and you nod, pulling out the shot kit you keep in a storage box by the chute. “i know i know.” you say, continuing to babble back at the young cow as he bellows at you. they’re like your children really, you talk like they’re grown and can understand you. preparing the dosage, you come to the side of the chute before pressing the needle into it’s skin. the cow chuffs and rattles inside the chute. pulling out a clipboard, you fill out a registration form for the calf, including his new number and vet information. you pull open the lever for the chute and the young cow runs back down the fence line, back into Dawn pasture. John herds the second calf next, she seems to be the more stubborn one. she’s escaping John’s arms and refuses to move when he waves at her. you chuckle. “come on John! i thought you were a cowboy!”you call, leaning over the fence to watch him struggle. he growls something at you, and finally guides the calf into the chute. you hit the lever and the cow stops. preparing another shot, you carefully inject her before registering her as you did the other. John’s huffing and breathing hard as he comes to stand next to you. when you release the cow you face him. “worn out because of a little calf?” you tease, smiling up at him. he shakes his head, still out of breath. his face is flushed, and his chest moves rapidly under his white shirt. you laugh and pat him on the left side of his chest before walking back to the horses. you mount yours and John follows suit. it’s almost noon as you finish tacking away the horses and gear. the house is loud, some old music playing on the radio your pa listens to. “there’s sandwich stuff for lunch if that’s okay.” you offer, going to the fridge to pull out the pitcher of tea and some strawberries. John nods and pulls out bread. you pull ham and cheese out of the fridge as well, trying to balance it all. the packet of ham starts to slip out of your arms but John catches it. “thanks.” you smile at him and place the contents on the counter. as you stand side by side and make lunch, someone watches from the hall.

your father leans on his cane, but stands deathly still as he watches the scene. you’re smiling again. laughing. like some invisible burden was raised from your shoulders and you can be young again. it reminds him of his Audrey. they used to stand in the kitchen, making dinner together, dancing around the hardwood floor. he’s got so many regrets. he should’ve married Audrey sooner. should’ve had his family when he was younger. instead he waited until he was an old man, back tired and sore from the mines. now he’s older and has trouble remembering. remembering his daughter. he doesn’t want to leave you alone. hours spent in a collapsed mine surrounded by the corpses of his friends haunt him of that at night. the thought of his wife bleeding out on the street alone after being shot wake him up from sleep. that’s partially why he put in an ad. hoped that whatever ranch hand out here (after he made sure they were safe and hard working) would help after he died. maybe have some compassion and help you with the funeral before moving on. you’d be able to move away with the money from his will and from the land. go to the city. but he was a young man once. sees the glint in that boys eyes when you laugh. hears the way you laugh. maybe that boy would stick around. for good.

John and you eat out on the back porch. a swing sits on and faces the pastures, and the combination of the rocking, the breeze flowing down the hills, and the good meal you just ate is making you sleepy. John’s shoulder presses against yours as he eats. his eyes are wide and take in the scenery as he takes another bite of strawberry. you smile and relax your shoulders, placing the plate to the right of you. eyes drooping, you don’t even feel yourself drift off to sleep.

John feels a weight on his bicep. you’re leaning on him, eyes shut and arms crossed over your chest. he slows his feet that are pushing the chair and stills. the plate and sandwich in his lap are left discarded, and he slowly licks off strawberry juice from his fingers before relaxing. he could sit while you napped. wouldn’t move an inch. you were probably tired. it’d been a long day and the weather was only getting warmer, cicadas clicking in the distance. jackets had long been left inside and hats hung on their hooks for later use. your nose lets out little puffs of air, and your body begins to really relax. your shoulders go completely limp and your body leans forward more, unable to hold itself up. so John tucks you under his right arm. moving slow, he shifts so your left thigh is almost on top of his right and your back leans into his chest. his right hand searches for a place to sit and tentatively rests on your right hip. the breeze floats through the porch, soothing the both of you. John’s eyes flutter closed and stay closed.

it’s mid afternoon when you begin to stir. you feel something heavy slung over your hip as your eyes open. the porch sits in front of you along with someone’s wide legs. you sit up slowly, taking in the environment. looking to your left, John’s asleep, head tipped back against the porch swing. snores leave his mouth and drool runs down the right sound of his mouth. his plate sits in his lap, half of a sandwich left over. his hand is the one on your hip and you try to stand, blushing. his hand tightens and pulls on your waist before you finally escape his grasp. you’re sure your face is flushed as you straighten your shirt and pick up both discarded plates. leaving him on the porch, you walk inside and rinse them both, looking out the window that overlooks the land. your father comes up behind you. “y’all worked hard this morning.” he says, coming to get a drink of water. you nod, scrubbing at the plates with soap. “he’s a fine worker. good man.” your father remarks, taking a sip before walking to pull a chair from the breakfast nook. you nod along again, drying the plates with a rag. “y’all work together well.” he says, looking at you directly. you hum, placing the ceramic plates in the cabinet. “yeah. got work done quick today.” you say before grabbing your hat and placing it on your head. you pick up John’s as well, knowing he’ll want it. “we’re going to go check the fields. start on the hay one.” you say, looking back at your pa. for the first time in a while, you see him. he looks old, hair graying and bones weak. he smiles at you still, just like he did when you were a kid. “okay sunflower. i’ll be here.” he says, and you slip out the back door. gazing where John sleeps, your mind turns. you shouldn’t do it. shouldn’t let him get close. you think back to your high school days, when you’d exchange glances at each other in the halls. flitting stares in class. his eyes straining to see you as he stood on the football field on game days. you’d hoped there’d be something between the two of you then, but it never happened. that was 5 years ago. not long at all, but to you it was. you stare at his sleeping form for a few moments more. his large chest rises slowly as he snores, and you look down. you shouldn’t. you won’t. but at the same time, it’s John. you’d smiled more than you have in the past year, laughed more than you have in the past three. you’re not sure what to make of the feelings in your chest, but you know John’s the cause of it.

you step in front of him, and rub his left shoulder. “John.” you say, pulling him upward a bit. “John. we have more work to do. John.” you say all of this softly, and his eyes flicker open, head raising to look at you. his hairs tussled and sticks up, blue eyes blinking blearily at you. drool clings to the side of his mouth and you smirk. “wipe your face.” you say before putting his hat on his head and walking to the Shed.

the first thing John hears is your sweet voice saying his name like it means something. he blinks his eyes open, your pretty eyes look down at his, hair looking perfect beneath your hat. he’s caught up in you, your soft lips and face with a healthy dose of warmth on them. “wipe your face.” is all he hears before you’re placing his hat on his head and walking off. he scrambles up and jogs after you, porch swing rattling in the process. he does what he’s told though, wiping dried drool off his mouth before catching up with you. opening the door to the Shed, you pull keys for an atv four wheeler. “we should go check the hay field.” you say, walking to the garage door, hitting the controls to open the large thing. “you okay with riding on the same one?” you ask. “kind of forgot to fill up the other one…” your voice trails off and you rub the back of your neck. that really was on you. John couldn’t care less, nodding as you walk back over. he watches you swing your leg over and lean to the front of the vehicle before turning over the engine. John didn’t account for being so close to you though. as he swings one leg over, the front of your thighs become flush with the backs of yours. he tries to keep himself leaned back, not touching you at all with his hands. “good.” he says gruffly and you nod, pulling out of the Shed. the drive to the hay field thankfully isn’t too bad. John’s more focused on the way your thighs touch his. as you slow to the fence of the field you nod at him, and he gets off to unlock the gate. basically a universal ranch rule. the youngest or the grunts get the gate. right now, he’s the grunt, so he gets the gate. as he pulls it open, you ride through and idle, waiting for him to get back on. “you can leave it open! we’ll be back.” you call over the rumble of the engine, and he climbs back onto the vehicle. a worn down path cuts through the middle and you ride down it, eyes scanning. John leans in closer and you feel his stomach touch your lower back. “what are we looking for?” he shouts so you can hear him. “animals, bull nestle, any odd plants, vultures, or large groups of bugs!” you yell back. John leans away at that, his eyes start scanning.

you’re riding the permiter of the fence now, looking out at the field to the left. just then, something catches John’s eye in the air. his right hand darts to your shoulder and his left points upwards. “there!” he says, and you slow before taking a path cutting through the field to the left. a vulture is circling around something on the ground, floating in the air. finally you see it. a dead coyote laying in the patch of grass. the vultures don’t scare and continue to pick at the dead animal. you turn off the engine and reach down by the bottom of the atv to pull off the rifle strapped there. leaning the barrel over the seat of the atv, you aim carefully before you have the vulture picking at the animal in sights. John crouches next to you quietly, soft breath hitting your shoulder. you exhale and take the shot.

dead on. John’s impressed as the vulture falls to the ground and you’re quick to aim for the one in the sky, holding the barrel still for all of two seconds before another shot rings out. dead on. you’re like Annie Oakley or something. he watches you rise and strap the gun back to the atv. “pop the seat, there’s some trash bags in there.” you say before pulling on your work gloves. he pulls the bags out before he’s pulling his own work gloves from his back pocket and tugging them on. like the chaps, they’re a little tight but not terribly bad. the two of you walk to the animals, John helping maneuver the coyote and vulture into the bag before picking up the other dead vulture that’s a few feet away. “this all looks fresh so the grass should be okay.” you say as you walk back. John ties the bag into a bungee cord on the back plastic part of the atv before you drive, ready to check the rest of the field. thankfully, everything else is clear, grass healthy and tall. Itll be time to bale it soon. the sun is getting lower in the sky when you’re finally done. dinners next. the house is quiet, your pa reading a book in the breakfast nook. “hey pa.” you say, taking off your hat and resting it on a hook. he looks up and grunts. “i was going to make mac n’ cheese with some chicken we have. that okay?” you ask, not really directing the question to anyone. John nods at you while your father speaks up, always something sarcastic to say. “you ask that like you’ll cook something else.” he grins. rolling your eyes, you pull out the ingredients, laying them on the counter. “well no, but it’s polite to ask, ain’t it?” you counter. your pa huffs and returns to his book.

everyone’s laughing at dinner. John told your father of how you roped both legs of a calf today and the older man brought up the time you tried to do that as a girl with a much bigger bull, and got thrown straight off your horse when the bull ran. you’d gotten thrown into the mud, completely dirtied, but you didn’t let go of the rope, held right onto it until one of the other men in the ring picked you up. even then, you were screaming like the devil, trying to get that bull. Johns eyes danced with light, and they flitted to you with every laugh. your pa was grinning like a cheshire cat, letting out wheezing laughs. you felt your face flush as you smiled into your lap, shoulders shaking as you suppressed laughter.

your pa helped you with dishes today, bones feeling good to stand. he laughed and teased you about things that happened when you were a girl. “you were such a pretty baby. cutest cheeks on earth. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” he chuckles, drying off a plate. you smile and rinse silverware. he looks at you, placing a plate back in its stack. “you still are the most beautiful thing in my life, sunflower. my daughter.” his hand comes down on your shoulder and you smile at him. he pulls you in for a hug before pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m going to bed.” he says, walking off onto the stairs. “goodnight! i’ll be back later, going to do the night chores!” you call, and he replies with a goodnight back. walking to the front door, you open it to see John sitting in a rocking chair, eyes looking at the setting sun. “hey. want to help me with the night chores?” you ask, walking to him slowly. his eyes look up at you, shining in the orange light of the sun. he nods and stands. “okay. well i usually go to the Shed first, we lock everything up and make sure the horses have hay for the night, then we go to the corn barn and make sure everything’s stored properly. we have some barn cats in there so we feed them as well.” you say, leading the way to the Shed.

John goes to check on the horses while you lock up the doors and check fuel levels on the vehicles. “they’re fed, got hay in the feeders. low on the troughs though.” he says, walking over to you. trying to ignore the way he just fills a room with his presence, you nod. “we’ll feed them in the morning. let’s go to the barn.” you say, trying to turn away from him. the walk is silent, and his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side. John walks slowly, basking in the day. you have no desire to make it go any faster, comfortable with the large man next to you. the corn barn is silent when you walk in, but two heads peek out behind a corner wall, mewling at you. “Matthew and Matilda.” you say, pointing at the cats. one is a white cat, dusting of brown fur along her back, and the other is a tawny color. “Mathew’s the tawny one.” you explain, walking over to a storage closet. pulling out the cat feed, you open a can and toss the other to John. “sometimes we spoil them with meat meat, but this is what they get for now.” Matilda walks over to you, rubbing on your legs as she purrs. when you place down her tin, she’s quick to dive in. Johns letting Matthew smell him, petting the cats head gently. Matthew whines when he smells the food and John smirks, placing it down on the ground. he rises, looking over to you. orange light still streams in from outside and an idea pops into your head. “cmon.” you say, turning to a set of stairs pushed on the side of the barn. the old steps hold your weight and when you get to the second level, you push open a door to the roof. you look back at John and smile, climbing up. when your feet are planted, you walk up the ton roof to the top, sitting on the flat part of the peak. John sits next to you, and looks out over the land. the view is better from here. the sun hits the grass and trees just right, and the painting of colors in the sky makes him feel at peace. he’s seen sunsets before of course, but never from here. never with you. your legs are stretched out in front of your and your hands sit on either side of the ground.

John’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t. you’re his employer. you’re busy and don’t need this. you don’t like him. nothing happened when you were in highschool. he shouldn’t touch you like this. but something pulls at his heart.

you feel fingers brush your right hand, curling to hold your own. you flinch and look at John. what the hell is he doing. why is he touching you. oh my god he shouldn’t be touching you. but his hand is so nice. he’s treated you so well. he made you laugh. you still love him.

so maybe that’s why you don’t pull away from his touch. maybe that’s why you lean on his shoulder. maybe that’s why when his right hand comes to cup your cheek so you’re forced to look at him, you relent.

“is this okay?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheekbone. you feel yourself nod, mind to blank and heart racing too much to think. he slowly presses his lips against yours and you feel like your melting. it’s soft and sweet, he’s moving slow like he’s trying to savor it. your lips feel like they’re made to be against his, and you sigh his name against his lips. he pulls away and drops his hand, looking for a reaction from you. “still okay?” he asks. “yeah. ‘m okay.” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. your lips press against the right side of his mouth, and they drift up to place one on his jaw. his sighs, and you’re placing your left hand on his bicep, gripping it as his hand drifts to your hip. he moves his head to catch your lips again, and the warm Texas sun makes the whole thing a little bit warmer.

you’re sneaking back to the house now. the sun had gone down significantly, but the purples and blues still lasted. John’s trailing behind you, hand clasping yours as you open the door. you sneak up the stairs and pause at the hallway between your two doors. he pulls you close, chest flush against his as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’ll see you in the morning.” he whispers before opening the door to his room. you nod, retreating to your own. as you go to the hall bathroom to shower, the warm water slows your mind down. slipping a nightgown over your head, you tug it down before brushing your teeth. your hair is damp and tangled as you walk back to your room, shutting the door. you hear John’s footsteps into the bathroom, followed by the squeaky shower pipes. turning to your mirror, you brush out your hair before laying down in your bed. you’re still up a hour later, mind racing over the days events. so you creep out of bed, open your door, and open John’s. he’s snoring softly, blankets kicked down to his thighs. an old band shirt sits on his chest, hand pushing it up to expose his stomach. he’s hairy, dark hair covering so much of him. you see the dark happy trail snake under his belly button and down to the v-in his hips. his boxer shorts fit loose on his legs, and you shut the door behind you. walking to his bed, you climb in next to him, curling into his side. his eyes flutter open and once he sees you, he relaxes. “hey.” he whispers, pulling his arms around you. you whimper into his neck and he kisses your cheek. “everything okay?” he says, hand tracing down your back. you nod. “i wanted to be with you.” you admit softly, curling your hands into his hair. he chuffs and smiles, pulling the blanket to cover you both. “goodnight-lovie’” he whispers as he sees you close your eyes.

PHEW!!!! LONG CHAPTER!!! MY FINGERS HURT!!! SO GLAD ITS DONE!!!!! SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! SIMON IS COMING NEXT!!!

-cass💕:D

[virginburial]

Paradiso Chapter One: DECAMERON

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Warning: not a ton of smut, just tension! steve being a smug asshole n all. there's slight mentions of self unalivings that did not actually take place within the reality of this story. there's also a lot of swearing and adult topics being shared. I haven't written y/n fics in a hot second i felt so dumb writing this but i'll never know if it sticks or not unless i try!

word count: 4.5k

song: Clover Paradise by La Femme

masterlist for fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Within the rolling hills of Northridge, hidden behind ivory gates and golf courses, and underneath the dimmed stars that faded with the city lights; You lay on shingles, music blasting from under you and shifting your body with each thump of the bass. The sound of people chattering overwhelmed you, so you went out for a smoke on the roof, which felt like an everyday occurrence. Today was different, everything about this solar return felt different. Or at least, that’s what your boss on Eternal would tell you; each season of Eternal was one solar return, and just like the sun, you always came back. 

Eternal was just the Bachelor. Eternal was just the Real World. Eternal was cheap slapstick trashy television with no real desire to point at something and say “hey, I’ll say something no one else has, ever.” It also has two Emmys, all of them accredited to the showrunner, your boss, and nothing to you. You could produce circles around narcissistic contestants and hedonistic darlings that sleep around, hell, even one of your coworkers got caught for sleeping with one of the contestants. He got fired. 

And then his roommate followed suit. 

And then you.

Because you were bored. Eternal bored you. 

There was nothing Eternal could’ve done to make you stay anyways; no amount of baby daddy’s and cheating reveals made you want to stick around anymore. So at the wrapped party, instead of saying your goodbyes, you go to the roof to smoke. Classic y/n. 

“Hey! Dumbass!” you hear a voice from below, eyes nearly rolling from the sound of Steve’s voice. You were surprised that he was even allowed back into the Eternal mansion; especially with all the contestants still hanging around. You sit up and peer over the lining of the roof, your eyes meeting with Steve’s leather brown eyes, his smile getting softer and softer as he waved to you. 

You scoff. “Back for your sloppy seconds?”

“How did you know?” Steve projected back, smirking. Your eyes fall on Jonathan, his roommate and the PA for Eternal, who also decided to walk off set earlier before the engagement ceremony. The truth was, you knew Steve and Jonathan way before working on Eternal; in fact, you all moved out of Hawkins and to LA together just to work on this show right after graduation. Five years of working on Eternal went down the drain because Steve can’t keep his dick in his pants. “Come down here!” Steve beamed. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it you sleeping with another contestant?” you bark back. 

“God I wish.” Steve hummed, earning a slap from Johnathan. Steve flinched and glanced back at you, hoping that a surprise was enough to get you down. “Cmon, y/n. Please? We heard about what happened.” Steve expressed. That was enough to pique your interest, considering how messy production gossip was. Everyone on the set of Eternal knew that you and Steve were a package deal; one of the best producers in reality tv, if they gave awards out for it, you’d have just as many awards as Madonna. It was easy to toy around with other people’s emotions for the sake of good TV. Steve knew that pretty well, in fact, he was going to win the bet that you and the other producers always engage in every season. That was, until he got fired, and all his contestants went to another producer, who ended up winning. 

You climb down the roof, your hands grappling with the ledge of the shingles and slowly climbing down and jumping just a few feet to the balcony; though, you felt a sharp sting in your ankles. Your face, cascaded with the outside lights, stared annoyingly at Steve and almost ignored Johnathan entirely. You saunter around the empty part of the balcony, seeing the party just yards away from you. “What have they been saying?” 

“Oh nothing.” Steve shrugged. “Just that you quit because Fiona was busting your balls, and since we’re best friends, and I got fired, you left.” pretty straightforward, and true. You had just about enough of the showrunner’s bullshit and Steve was your rock. “But they’re also saying you slept with the light director-” Steve chimed. 

You gagged. “Roddy? Yeah-fucking-right.” you spat. “So what are you doing here? It’s not like you’re coming here to collect your prize for the bet.” You hummed.

The bet was simple; you have a group of contestants, each one of them wanting to end up with this season's darling, whoever’s girl actually wins the darling's heart, wins the bet. Last year, you won, and the year before, Steve won. Steve shook his head. “Fuck the bet, I have something better for us to gamble on.” Then he pats Jonathan's back. Poor jonathan. He was never that into the show and never rose to the ranks you and Steve did. So when Steve got fired, he didn’t mind leaving either. 

Where Steve was a bit brash, and you were…well, you. Jonathan always stayed Johnathan. Quiet, shy, but always on the verge of something; just nobody could guess what. Your eyes darted to Jonathan, who gulped nervously. “y/n…has anyone ever told you that you’re really intimidating?” Jonathan mumbled. 

“Seriously, Harrington?” you glanced back at Steve. 

Steve gets frustrated, reaching into Johnathan’s jacket and pulling out a thick stack of papers; bound together by staples and twine. He tosses it over to you, and having you catch it without it hitting your face. It took a second for you to realize that this was a script. How did Steve get his hands on one of these? He couldn’t have written it, motherfucker can barely spell restaurant. Your fingers grazed over the title page, and flipped through its sturdy pages, your eyes followed each word as your stomach fluttered with opportunity. The simple act of skimming through the script made you forget about the day you were having, but you had to remain calm about it, because the truth was that you had no idea what this was or what it could be about. All you could remember after flipping the pages back to the title page were the names; Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. 

You stared back up at the boys, who were looking at you with eager eyes. Almost hoping you’d catch on to the plot or anything regarding the project they wanted to unload onto you; or include you in. The jury was still out on their motivations. “What’s this?” you questioned. 

“A script.” Steve hummed. 

“No shit, but what is it, really?” 

Steve sighs. “Okay…it's a movie-I know what you’re going to say, we have no experience making films, but have you ever considered that maybe us getting fired could lead to us doing other things out here?” Steve chirped. “Cus if anything’s for certain, I’m not moving back to Hawkins.” he expressed. You listen, of course you did, if your best friend was eager about something then it must be important. You knew he didn’t want to move back to work for his dad’s company, anything but that. 

The idea of making a movie intrigued you, because that’s why you came out here, you shot for television because it was easier, but really? Why come to Los Angeles if it wasn’t for the art of filmmaking? It’s what you wanted, even if you were used to producing trash television. You admired Steve’s ambition, always have, so you crossed your arms and expected more out of him besides some low level explanation of a pipe dream. “Okay, what’s the movie about?”

Steve bit his lip. “It’s these two porn producers that let an actor stay with them-”

You scoffed, leading into a laugh. “Alright, so you wanna film a porno.” 

“No, no. Listen to me. It’s not a porno…not exactly.” you tilt your head to the side. “Imogen and Jesse are married, and they produce pornos together, and their marriage sucks. They’re always fighting about when they should have a kid or something. Jesse is filming something avant garde and meets Mac, who needs a place to stay. Mac moves in. Chaos ensues. Next thing you know; Imogen is fucking Mac and Mac is fucking Jesse and Jesse is fucking Imogen but its all wrapped up into a pretty bow, until it isn't. Someone gets hurt.” Steve nonchalantly explains. “Someone always gets hurt. One person can’t express love the way they want and fall deeper in love with someone else, another realizes they shouldn’t be with someone, someone's way in over their head.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay…okay.” you stop him from continuing. “So Eyes Wide Shut meets Cruel Intentions-” “-no, it’s its own thing!” Steve explains. “It’s the obscure movie that you find close to the adult section at Blockbuster; but is it really there? If it’s next to the horror section?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “It’s a movie with shots that pay off in the end and filmed on a vintage film camera. It’s the movie that, if enough eyes are on it, could get awards-”

“-Great, I’m glad you learned what Oscar bait is.” you laughed softly. “All I’m hearing is porn porn porn sex sex sex. What’s the point of this movie?” you challenged. “Is it just what we do at Eternal?” you questioned. “Because I don’t see the point if it’s just reality tv on the big screen.” a sigh left you. “And between the three of us, I don’t see the point of even being in LA anymore. I mean, rent is through the roof. Fuckin-I had no job lined up after Eternal and with all of this fucking bullshit flying around about me quitting over you is gonna get me blacklisted off some sets. I’m ready to hang it up.” 

“No.” Jonathan finally spoke up. 

Your eyes flew to him, almost appalled he even spoke in the first place. “No?”

“No.” he repeated, stepping forward between you and Steve. “Maybe this movie isn’t the one that wins us some big award. Maybe it’ll be your average run of the mill indie flick with a small cult following. But it's the kind of movie you watch on a date, and the entire time you’re watching it, you hope your date sticks their hands down your pants. It makes your skin hot. It’s the kind of movie where the woman takes the lead. It’s buying lingerie for no one but yourself. It’s the feeling you get when you’re alone at the bar, and some handsome stranger buys you a drink and you look at him and you hope it goes somewhere. It’s hiking up to the Hollywood sign at night with a case of beer and a quilt with a girl you like. It’s carnal, it’s liberating, It’s taboo. It’s…it’s fucking french!” 

“Yeah! Fuck it, it’s French.” Steve chimes in as Jonathan continues. “Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the Malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say we’re free here. It’s undoubtedly, shamelessly, beautifully Los Angeles. Straight out of the Decameron! An erotic thriller between a desperate porn producer and his bored housewife, and how their life gets flipped upside down by some vagrant from Van Nuys who fucks! He fucks them all but who really wears the pants? Who’s in control? Don’t you want to evoke that feeling without putting real people at risk for once?” Jonathan vocalizes. “Don’t you want to be free?”  

You stop at your tracks, your tongue going dry at the idea of it; fair, sexy, nasty. Maybe not everything needs to be so gray, maybe things can be black and white. Your heart beats out of your chest from Jonathan’s vigorous explanation. Steve’s eyes fall to your lips, his eyes scanning your expression for your next move; you weren’t sure you had one. He knew that. Steve tugs at his bottom lip. “What’s your craziest fantasy, y/n?”

Your what?

Your stomach rumbles with anxiety, you hoped that question had a point, and you hoped that whatever that point was, it’d pay off. Yet, the mere idea of Steve Harrington knowing what made you tick made you nervous. Your skin flushed a deep crimson as your mouth slowly opened to speak, but nothing came out. A smirk appeared on Steve’s face. “Cmon, first thing that comes to your mind.” he presses slightly. 

“I…I’m dressed up as whatever someone wants me to be.” you keep it short, and sweet. 

“I knew you like being told what to do.” Steve snickers, he turns to Jonathan. “Add that to the script.”

You roll your eyes and huff, your eyes shifting over to Jonathan. “Who wrote it?”

“Nancy.”

You scoff, then find yourself laughing a little louder than expected; a little longer than expected, and seeing Johnathan’s face fall from your revelation made it all the better. “Nancy? Your girlfriend, Nancy? The one that was a huge prude in high school and followed you here just to end up teaching at some school? That Nancy?” your arms fold themselves in front of you. “What does she know about sex?” well, you haven't had sex in over a year, too worried about your job. Maybe she does know a thing or two more than you. 

Steve shakes his head. “Hey, believe it or not, it’s actually pretty good. Give the priss a chance. Give Jonathan a chance. Hell, give me a chance, y/n-” “-and what exactly do you want me to do if we decide to move forward with it? Huh?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve leans against the stone railing of the balcony. “You and I are gonna produce it, I’ll even give you the executive producer title if it makes you jump on board. Nancy wrote it, and Jonathan wants to direct, film, and edit it.” oh how confident he is that you’ll say yes, even with the big, fancy title of executive producer. “Also, Robin from the sound department is willing to run sound and lights as long as word doesn’t get to Fiona that she’s helping us out with our film during Eternal’s off season. All we need are actors. Some coquette-ish bombshell to play Imogen, and two guys who are down to do anything to play Mac and Jesse. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Steve said with a relaxed tone. “Besides, you can produce circles around people, remember last season of Eternal? Where you had to literally talk someone down from a ledge? Now here I am getting you off the roof.” 

“I just went up there to get away from the party and smoke.” you jabbed. 

“So you go on top of it? Noted.” Steve jeers. “Like I said, it shouldn't be too hard.”

Shouldn’t be too hard? God she hated how confident he could be at times. “Why do you want to make this movie?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “I want an Oscar.” his head turned to the side, looking out to the city behind him, yet the answer did not satisfy you. You knew it was all jokes. Steve Harrington and you were not going to win an Oscar over a script Nancy Wheeler wrote, directed by Jonathan Byers.  “No.” you hummed. “Look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?” we could be making anything else; maybe even a show to compete with Eternal. But no, he wants to make a movie about Nancy’s wet dreams. 

Steve’s eyes met yours. “I…don’t want to pay rent anymore.” he answered honestly. You could tell in his tone that he was telling the truth. He was desperate to not go back to Hawkins, and deep down, you knew why. So, reluctantly, you looked down at the script in your hands, which had to be around a hundred or so pages; more than that rather than less, and sighed. “Let me read it, and I’ll get back to you.”

Steve clapped his hands once and smiled. “See? Read it tonight. Pour yourself some wine and read it, you won’t regret it. y/n.” 

Yeah yeah yeah, sure. 

“What’s it called? The film?” 

And Steve flashes the same fucking smirk he’s been sporting his whole life. It melts you to your core, he’s too charming for his own good. It’s why Jonathan’s a good roommate for him; they balance each other out so well. Steve stares over at Jonathan as he motions him to tell you. 

“Paradiso.”

Later that night, early into the morning, you drove home and parked on the side of the street, hoping some asshole won't side sweep your car this time. Your keys fall into a ceramic bowl as your eyes wander over to your roommate crashing out on the couch, mouth open and snoring loudly. You didn’t even bother to turn the tv off, which was conveniently on some episode of Seinfeld. Life kind of felt that way, like a fucked up sitcom. You hated that you couldn’t lounge on the couch with a glass of wine like Steve suggested. So you slightly stomped over to your room and closed the door behind you. 

You kicked off your shoes, and didn’t bother to take off your jeans but took off your bra, because you had to pick a struggle. You tossed the script over to the bed, but your eyes couldn’t stop staring at it. It had to be something great if it got both Steve and Jonathan excited, especially since Steve renders the Fast and Furious movies as masterpieces, and Jonathan loves anything directed by David Lynch. Two sides of the same unbearable coin, you were always a fan of Coppola; Sofia, not Francis Ford. 

You flicked on the light by your desk and grabbed the script, flipping to a random page as your eyes scanned the words. Where did Nancy learn how to write a screenplay? It’s not like her to know more about a script or screenwriting than you do. But maybe that’s where you were mistaken, because once your eyes hit the dialogue, you knew you had a hit. 

You knew you had a hit. 

And everything Steve was saying was starting to make sense. Not total sense, but just enough for you to be grabbing your blackberry and giving him a quick call. It had to be one am, but you knew Steve was still awake, it’s not like him to be asleep so early. Your fingers hit the number pads and your thumb hovered over the call button, and after a few short rings, Steve’s cherry laced voice could be heard on the other line; clearly in his car.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, what the fuck.”

“Hey what the fuck what?” he chuckled. 

You flipped a few pages, knowing that Steve could hear you on the other line as you bit your lip and started reading. “Imogen: I hate that you can do this to me so easily, it’s almost like you got a kill switch for me.” 

“Go on?”

“Mac: you make it too easy, Gene. all I do is flatter you. You don’t love me anymore than you love yourself. So instead of hating me, why don’t you show me how much you love yourself.” then you shut the script. “And then, she masterbates? And drags his hand over and he does nothing until she begs?!” 

“Genius, right?”

“Corny! It’s corny!” 

“So corny it’s genius.”

“Look I’m not saying it’s bad, this could very much turn into something. But I’ll help Nancy write better dialogue or something ‘cus this-?”

“-This what? This isn’t sexy enough for you?”

“Wouldn’t it be hotter if he forced her?”

“Consensually? Yeah, but actually, that wouldn’t make it hotter at all; because then the dialogue of her loving herself wouldn’t make sense. It’s a whole arc for her. It’s her having control over when and how she cums and instead of taking that control, she eagerly gives it to him. That’s the thing. That’s the entire thing.”

“Yeah but does that make anyone’s panties wet?”

“Maybe not all at once…why?” 

“Because mine aren’t. Look, I flipped to a random page and-”

“-and that’s where you messed up-”

“-would you stop interrupting me?” you snapped. 

“All I’m saying is, Paradiso is not a movie where you cum over and over and over again. It’s quality over quantity. What’s more enjoyable? One giant orgasm or 5 tiny ones?”

“Would it be selfish of me to say five tiny ones?”

“Well now you’re just being bratty.”

“Steve, I think we should do this movie. But not because I believe in it, but because I need money.”

“You and everyone else y/n.” Steve scoffed. “You don’t have to believe in it. But please just help me and Jonathan out? Especially with what happened with-”

“-Mhm?”

“...nothing.”

“What happened with who?”

“Me and one of the contestants.”

“Mhm…see, I already know you’re not ashamed of that because this isn’t even your first time fucking someone from Eternal. So spill.”

“...Nancy and Jonathan got into a huge fight a couple of weeks ago, Jonathan said he’d do anything to make it up to her, she gave him this script, and yeah.”

“You don't even believe in this either, Steve!” 

“Fake it till you make it.”

“We could make anything else, literally anything else! I could do Fiona’s job with my eyes closed! We could be showrunners, pitch a few ideas to the network and get our own slice of the Eternal pie. Instead we’re doing softcore porn-”

“Well, in case you forgot, sex sells! It’s why Eternal is such a gold mine!” Steve barks. “You think people only tune in for the faux pa drama you and I create amongst the contestants and the darlings? No! They watch because some hunky rich bastard is gonna be in a speedo for an episode for two while 20 ladies in bikinis all flaunt to him like a pack of vultures. That’s why it does well! And we know how to curate a social orgy because of Eternal, I kind of see this as a downgrade if anything.”

“...you’re really desperate to not go back home.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t mean something.”

“...okay, okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll settle for executive producer.”

“You’ll...settle?” 

“Take it or leave it, Steve.” 

“Okay! Okay, this is good.” you could hear him smiling through the phone, almost radiating back to you. “Thanks y/n. I just knew we make a good team because of Eternal. There’s so much we can do with this now that we have more creative freedom, y’know?” 

You knew. “Yeah…yeah. We need to hold auditions. Because the last thing I want is to see Nancy and Jonathan try their hands at being Imogen and Jesse.” you gag slightly.

“Please, Jonathan is too camera shy. Remember when he was almost caught on camera last season of Eternal? The season with-”

“-That guy who owned his own vineyard? And kept trying to sell wine on the show? Yeah, Jonathan jumped in the pool to avoid getting in the frame. Even though he totally could, we weren't even filming.” you laugh to yourself. Then you sigh. “...I'm gonna miss doing the show.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment, then responds. “At least you left knowing that ratings are gonna plummet next season ‘cus you won’t be around. It’ll all be Fiona's fault.”

“Seriously? Fuck her, I caught her with a gentleman caller last season and it was Vineyard guy! She was fucking last season’s darling! And she wants to fire you for being with a girl who got voted off anyways?” 

“I’m over it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll get in contact with robin about casting, maybe some disgruntled contestant wants to join us. She won’t be legally obligated to stay loyal to Eternal if she gets voted off of anything.”

“Robin or a contestant?”

“Does it matter? Robin hates working there too. Though, I totally mean a contestant.”

“Mhm…okay. Just don’t cast the girl you were hooking up with. It’s a conflict of interest. We’ll find our cast. But maybe not tonight.”

“Fair…hey! Before you hang up, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“The question I asked you, about your biggest fantasy…” Steve drifts off slightly. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yes and no. would never give that precious info away to Jonathan Byers.”

“Cmon, now you have to tell me.”

“Mhm…why would I do that?”

“For the cause.”

“What cause? The so-called erotic thriller we’re filming?”

“No, the reality tv show.” Steve sarcastically hummed. “Yes, the movie.”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

Steve hesitates. “I…” 

“Exactly, that’s what I thought-”

“-No no! I’ll tell you.” he sighs. “I…I’ve always wanted to wrap a belt around a girl's thighs, like really tight, kinda just hog-tie her, you know? Then spank her until she’s begging me to fuck her, but I’m a little conniving bastard so I don’t right away. Just rub and finger her until she’s a drooling, mumbling mess. Then fuck her until she goes limp from cumming so much.”

Oh fuck. Your mouth gets dry. You weren’t expecting him to actually say anything, in fact, you were expecting him to joke around or even lie like you did; a white lie is still a lie. Instead, he decided to be transparent, which sent you over the edge both with the tension and how awkward it is to know about Steve Harrington’s fantasy. And how silly yours was in contrast. 

“Earth to y/n.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s one hell of a thought process. You should add that to the script instead of whatever mine is-”

“-you’re embarrassed by yours?”

“Well I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve hums. 

“Fine, it’s…it’s dressing up as an angel and someone dressing up as a priest.”

The other line goes quiet. 

You continue on anyway. “And he worships me but also…spanks me with a bible-”

“HOLY SHIT.” Steve starts cackling, between heavy breaths and laughter, you try to explain yourself, but you too found it silly. “Hey! Some of us think priests can be hot-” “-you’re lying! You have to be lying-i know just about half of Hawkins will hate you if they find out you have a priest kink!” Steve giggles. 

“You’re one to talk, Dexter! Wanting to tie girls up ‘n shit-”

“-someone has a boatload of religious trauma.” he finally calms down, however, he continues to laugh slightly. “Is there something less disrespectful that you like?”

“...I can do a James Bond/James Bond Girl thing.”

“Okay, at least we’re getting somewhere.”

“Yeah, at least. I’m gonna head to bed. Wake me up when Robin’s figured out casting?”

“Sure, have a nice night, Angel-”

“-Oh shut the fuck-”

Call Ended!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 834 | Inspired by this post of mine |

-

“Hurry it up, Evs,” Barty called over the edge of the roof, peering down at where Evan was climbing out of the Owlery window. Evan’s movements were practiced after years of having snuck out in the same way, and even though he was much bigger than he had been when they had first started doing this, he made it out with ease.

“Don’t rush me, or I’ll lose focus and fall all the way down,” Evan responded before grabbing the lip of the roof and heaving himself up and over.

Barty could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes as Evan gained his footing beside him.

“Please, you could do that with your eyes closed.”

“Yes, well,” said Evan. “You’re very distracting sometimes, you know that?”

Barty’s cheeks flushed, but he blamed it on the chilly wind that whipped through the points and valleys of the castle roof.

Then, with a cheeky smile, Evan was moving, carefully climbing down the steep and shingled slope to get to their spot.

Barty had found it in second year after a particularly bad day, in which McGonagll had passed back assignments and he had been greeted with a nice fat 82%. He’d never hated anything more, because he was a Crouch. He should have performed better, should’ve gotten an one hundred and then some.

Luckily, Barty had fixed that way of thinking in the time since. Partially due to Evan, who always, without fail, followed Barty whenever he disappeared in order to make sure he was okay.

That simple fact was why Evan was the only other one who knew about this spot. And of course, Barty still liked to come here after bad days, but as of the last couple of years it had become more of a hangout place just for the two of them.

It was Barty’s favorite place in the entire school.

Evan’s cheeks were flushed as he turned back to face Barty and ask, “You coming?”

His eyebrow raised in that familiar expression of his that Barty loved so much. Merlin, how did Evan not know?

“Yes, I’m coming,” Barty responded with a grin. He didn’t look where his feet were going before he stepped, much too intent on taking in Evan up here in the chilly October air, his own version of Evan that no one else would ever get to see.

Their knees knocked together as they sat down on the edge, feet dangling in open air. When they were younger, they had been separated by several inches, but they had slowly moved closer and closer until they were sharing each other’s warmth and breathing each other’s air. Barty tried not to read into it too much.

“I’ve got a present for you,” Evan said suddenly, turning to look at Barty. He reached a hand into the pockets of his robe, fist curled tightly around it to keep it from view. Not that it stopped Barty from craning his neck to try and see, though.

“Don’t get too excited,” Evan warned, but it was too late. Barty already loved it, whatever it was. Not that he knew what the occasion for it was, or could even foster a guess.

Evan motioned for Barty to hold out a hand, and Barty dutifully obeyed. A smile spread across his face as Evan dropped a familiar-looking box into his outstretched palm.

“A chocolate frog?” asked Barty, smiling softly back up at Evan.

“Yes,” Evan said, and didn’t elaborate. Barty waited.

“Fine,” Evan sighed, perhaps knowing well enough by now that Barty was more than content to wait and hear his thoughts. “It’s just, I read about this thing that Muggle kids do on Halloween, where they dress up in little costumes and go around to different houses. And there’s something about how if they do a trick, they’ll get a treat.” He nodded to the chocolate frog in Barty’s hand, which had been temporarily forgotten about in favor of looking at Evan as he spoke.

“Anyways,” Evan continued, “I just thought, since we never really got to have anything like that, it’d be kind of… nice. To have something, I mean.”

It was nice, Barty thought. They’d never really gotten to have much of a childhood, and both of their parents wouldn’t have let them be caught dead doing a Muggle tradition. So Evan purposely going against that to give Barty a little taste of that life they’d never get to live, well. It warmed him from head to toe, even with the cold breeze blowing around them.

Except…

“I didn’t do a trick, though.”

Evan just shrugged. “The world’s tricky enough already,” he said. “I don’t see why we should have to make it even trickier just to get a treat.”

Barty smiled, even though it made his frozen cheeks hurt. And as he sat up on that roof, eating the treat Evan had given him, he couldn’t decide which was sweeter—the chocolate, or getting to be there, right by Evan’s side.

-

[destinationtrekk]

i got shingrix cause my roommate has shingles and my body & arm hurts so bad rn AHHHHHHH

I humbly kindly request Wesker giving reader a hug after they politely ask him because they do Not feel the best... thank you very much...

oh nshtn i hope you feel better!!! and i know for a fact wesker would baby and care for you always <3

you stumble into his office after feeling just awful all day. nothing has helped - medicine, sleeping, eating, not even chugging water got rid of the wracking something plaguing your body.

so it leaves you only one option: comfort. now that you know nothing will make the pain and discomfort go away, the only thing left is to Cope With It. which of course sucks to do alone.

wesker had told you once that he was there for you, for anything, so you might as well start cashing those checks.

he's standing menacingly at his desk - an expensive sitting/standing one he just had to have - and typing away furiously. you almost feel bad to interrupt him while he's busy, but he had been adamant you come to him for help. you slide up beside him cautiously, like now of all times will be when he rejects you for the first time, and lean against his desk next to his elbow.

he glances at you for a moment, and then continues typing away. "Something you need, dear?"

you blush and nod, realizing now that asking for help is much harder than it seemed when you were lingering in the hallway. "Are you busy? I can wait if-"

His sharp turn cuts you off, and his brows furrow as he studies you. his glasses are sitting low on his nose, and he lifts them up to tuck into his hair. he's looking through you like glass. "No, I'm not busy. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! I was just wondering if, uh, you could- well..." He's smirking at you now, leaned on an elbow on his desk and one leg kicked over the other like this is the most entertaining thing he's seen all week.

"If I could...?"

He's being purposefully obtuse. he could always tell when you were getting sick before you even felt symptoms. the sheen of sweat on your forehead and trembling hands must be obvious, though, despite how his heightened senses told him everything. he just wants you to admit that you were feeling pain - something he had been offering to help you with for days now.

"Please, can I have a hug?" You heave a great sigh to distract from the warm blush spreading up your neck - from fever or embarrassment, you weren't sure. His face softens, and without a word you're wrapped in his arms.

this is...not what you expected. you thought he'd be a little more distant, a little more tense around you. but despite his size he's so gentle where he splays a large hand across your back, the other coming to cup the back of your head and press you to his chest. it takes you a moment, but you eagerly bury your face into his shirt. soft fabric rubs against your cheek while you breathe in his warm cologne, and it's like you never felt bad to begin with.

"You only had to ask, sweet thing," his chuckle rumbles against your face as he squeezes tighter. he rubs his hand slowly up and down your back, sliding beneath your shirt during one pass to flatten his warm palm to your skin. he doesn't seem to mind that you feel sweaty and gross and awful, because he drops his chin to your head and...purrs?

no, he can't possibly be purring. uroboros has done many, many things to his body, but he couldn't - oh, he actually is.

you can feel the vibrations coming from him, from his chest and throat and the underside of his chin. all pressed along your face and head, it's like he's vibrating your soul. the hand in your hair slides down to cup your neck, gently squeezing like he's scruffing you. it's insanely comforting and a little arousing at the same time. being trapped in his muscular arms, held in place by his warm hands and vibrating with white noise - you never want to leave.

unfortunately, he does actually have work to do. his purring dies down and he pulls away moments later, a pink blush painting his own cheeks. he slides a hand up to your cheek, red eyes darting around your face as he studies you.

"you definitely have a fever, pet. another day or so. shouldn't last longer than that." the twitch of his nostrils tell you that he's scenting you like a dog, which okay, yeah, it's actually insanely helpful, if a little weird. "I'll be done soon. Go lay on the couch and I'll find something stronger to help you sleep."

he turns you towards the couch near his desk and returns quickly to typing. you do as he says, still a little dazed from whatever psychological or biological trick he just played on your body. his couch is much more comfortable than it has any right to be, and maybe another nap doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all.